


Parallax

by heavy_cream



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: 30 Day Creation Challenge, Augmented James T. Kirk, BAMF James T. Kirk, Devoted Spock, Emotional, Emotions, Feelings Realization, Gay Disaster Spock, Getting Together, Introspection, M/M, POV Spock (Star Trek), Protective Spock (Star Trek), Resolved Sexual Tension, Sexual Content, Slow Burn, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, resolved emotional tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:27:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 35,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25029277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heavy_cream/pseuds/heavy_cream
Summary: The first time they meet, Kirk is biting into an apple, sitting smug and conceited in the simulated captain’s chair and Spock is standing behind the glass in the observation room, intrigued by this cadet who had defied all logic, had overthrown all of his carefully calculated outcomes, and had instead forged himself an entirely new path out of sheer refusal to accept defeat no matter the odds.---2020.07.31 EDIT: COMPLETEDNote: Not stand alone. This is now a single story.
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Spock
Comments: 271
Kudos: 330





	1. Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> Updates daily.  
>  **[30 Day Creation Challenge](https://heavy---cream.tumblr.com/post/622048715470995457)**

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PROMPT DAY 1: Introduction

The first time they meet, Kirk is biting into an apple, sitting smug and conceited in the simulated captain’s chair and Spock is standing behind the glass in the observation room, intrigued by this cadet who had defied all logic, had overthrown all of his carefully calculated outcomes, and had instead forged himself an entirely new path out of sheer refusal to accept defeat no matter the odds.

They would meet again during his hearing, where he would come face to face to the incandescent spirit that Kirk will become famous for in later years, and he will realize that whatever he has learned over the years about humans, is worth nothing when it comes to James Kirk. 

He is reminded of this again on the bridge of the Enterprise, where Kirk succeeds at getting under his skin so effectively, so expertly efficient that he obliterates Spock’s defenses with a simple conversation. He is a force he can’t predict, he doesn’t even begin to comprehend, can much less handle. 

Spock is sitting now next to his Captain’s bed in the private room at Starfleet medical, looking at his still form as he sleeps. He has once again beaten the odds, succeeded at something that defies the laws of the Universe, something that no one, not even James Kirk, ought to be able to do. 

And yet here Spock sits, watching him sleep, as life courses through his body, as superhuman blood has brought him back from beyond the veil, as he rearranges Spock’s understanding of the Universe by simply existing, and Spock is once again reminded of that first accurate assessment he had of Jim. Unpredictable. Illogical. Undeniable. 

Spock thinks: impossible, and Jim opens his eyes.


	2. Arrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PROMPT DAY 2: arrow/sword

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *gendo ikari pose*
> 
> This challenge is quickly running away from me... I was supposed to stick to max 500 words per prompt... this might end up being a behemoth of a story... again...
> 
> Anyway, Spock loves Kirk and he is stupid about it.

The physical recuperation had been swift once Jim had woken up, and even though he had ‘bitched and moaned’ as Dr. McCoy would say, Jim had been diligent in his physical therapy, acquiescing to endless testing and the mandatory psychological sessions requested by Starfleet.

Spock had remained by Jim’s side as much as his own obligations allowed him too, reluctant to leave the captain out of his sight for too long. He had been surprised at the time at Jim’s compliance with what even Spock recognized as redundant bureaucratic processes designed to delay the decision of giving Jim Kirk another mission. 

When he expressed this curiosity to his captain, Jim had looked at him and said: “I will do whatever it takes to protect my ship and my crew. That is my duty as a captain. And sometimes that means giving up my own life if I have to, and sometimes that means playing by the rules of the admiralty.”

Spock is remembering this conversation as he heads down to the gym, looking for his captain. They were now six months into their five-year commission and their order had reduced them to what could only be described as a glorified cargo ship. Their missions had consisted of ferrying supplies from one station to another, escorting dignitaries, aiding stranded ships, and performing only ship-side planet sensor scans. 

He knows that this is the result of Starfleet admiralty being wary of Captain Kirk, no matter that he had been cleared by Starfleet medical and had undergone extensive psychological evaluations before he had been even able to leave the hospital. 

Humans, as a collective, behaved even more illogically as they did as individuals.

Spock steps into the gym, mostly empty during gamma shift, and finds his captain in hand-to-hand combat using one of the training drones. He approaches slowly but is under no illusion that the captain hasn’t noticed him. Jim is not the same after Khan, and that is true in more ways than one. 

He waits and watches as Jim finishes the sequence he has programmed into the drone, he moves fluently, efficiently, and merges a series of different fighting styles so seamlessly, it’s hard even for the drone to keep up. Spock knows him well enough to know that his assessment had been correct. A few minutes later, the session comes to an end with a beep, the drone going motionless instantly and Kirk lowers his hands. His shoulders are taut, there is a restlessness in Jim that he has been unable to work off, and it is clear to Spock, that his mind is occupied with other thoughts.

“Captain,” Spock announces himself and Jim gives him an indulgent smile.

“I really feel that the gym is one of those places where you should call me Jim,” the captain replies, making a clear effort to fall into easy conversation, but Spock can read the line of tension in his body, can see the storm brewing behind those eyes. 

“Although this might be a less formal environment, I am here as your first officer,” Spock replies as Jim walks towards the bench to pick up a towel.

“Is something wrong?” 

Spock clasped his hands behind his back. “Since the beginning of our mission six months ago, we have been engaged in routinary activities which you have referred to in the past as ‘mind-numbing nonsense’, and I have observed that the lack of stimuli and challenge usually has a negative impact on your emotional well-being, which is, in your particular case, most commonly expressed as frustration. As your first officer, one of my duties is to ensure your well-being, managing your frustration and finding a constructive outlet for it, is part of this,” Spock replies, stiff with anticipation. In the past, this argument had been the cause of strong, negative reactions from his captain. The fact that the statement is both true and sound in logic has never seemed to mitigate this reaction in the least. Spock squares his shoulders, ready for the blowback, but it doesn’t come. Instead, Jim is smiling, rubbing the towel against his left temple, drying off the sweat that is rolling over his flushed skin.

“How exactly were you expecting to… manage my frustration?” Jim asks and Spock has the distinct notion that there are layers to that phrase that he is missing, but he steps onto the mat regardless, slowly moving into the starting position for Suus-Mahna. He watches mesmerized, captivated, as Jim’s smile turns slowly into a grin, as he throws towel back onto the bench and steps in closer, mirroring Spock’s pose, as he turns from captain into something else entirely.

Spock feels oddly challenged, some instinct awakens deep within him, and he strikes out fast. Jim dodges, counters with the same attack before falling back using something that is not Suus-Mahna at all. This is not the first time they fight, they have trained together before, much more now that their physical abilities are more closely matched, and yet Spock is faced with Jim’s humanity all over again. He moves in ways that to Spock seem counterintuitive, and so the combat engages his attention far more than he anticipates. They move in something that he thinks in ancient Vulcan times, would have been considered a dance amongst warriors. Strike, parry, counter. They move each other, direct each other, challenge each other. Jim succeeds at pinning him to the mat but is overthrown almost immediately and finds an elbow pressed against his windpipe. The captain might be stronger now than an average human, faster and more agile, but Spock still has mass over him, his body denser, heavier than that of a human, and he uses this to his advantage now, as he presses Jim down to the floor. 

There is a moment of stand-still then, Jim’s sky blue eyes staring at him piercingly, his hair matted against his forehead, dark and wet with sweat, his face flushed with exertion, his breath coming in quick bursts. Spock is straddling him, his legs pinning Jim's arms and he watches fascinated as Jim’s eyes seem to glint with challenge when he increases the pressure on his neck slightly. 

There is a moment of something there, for just an instant Spock feels transported to a time long forgotten on a planet that no longer exists, and could swear he could feel the heat of a desert sun burning through his skin. And just as quick, the moment passes, an instant that came and went within the same breath, and Jim is tapping the mat twice. 

He yields. 

Spock immediately moves away and sits next to Jim on the mat. With the combat over, the tension broken, he feels the drain of energy keenly, and considering that Jim hasn’t made any effort to move, he figures that the captain is in a similar state. They rest in silence, catching their breath and lowering their heart-beats. 

“Hey, Spock?” Jim asks after a moment.

“Yes, Captain?”

Jim turns his head to look at him, he is still lying on the mat. “I’m frustrated,” he says simply, honestly. Spock watches him. They are close enough that he can feel Jim’s heat against his thigh.

“I find the admiralty’s actions illogical,” Spock offers truthfully and Jim lets out a deep breath and sits up. His shirt is sticking to his chest, and though his skin is still damp, his breathing is back down to normal and his face has lost the rosy tinge. 

“They are holding us back because of me and it’s not fair for the crew,” he admits succinctly looking at his hands, rubbing his thumb against his palm. “I forced their hand and now they are making sure we all pay for it,” Jim finishes broodily.

Spock is not used to this side of his captain, the side that has doubts and he thinks that perhaps he has once again fallen into the same trap he had when they first met. Jim is a man of multitudes and one who is as boisterous as he is private. One who rarely offers truths that expose vulnerability. But this too is something that changed between them after Khan. 

“When I attended the Vulcan Institute for Defensive Arts, I studied archery science for a semester,” Spock says after a moment of silence. The apparent non-sequitur of his statement has the desired result of Kirk being distracted from his mood long enough to look at him confused.

“Alright?”

“A fascinating practice. An ancient art which is, scientifically speaking, quite complex.” 

“Okay?” 

“A bow functions like a two-armed spring that stores mechanical ‘potential energy’ when the string is drawn and pulls back the limbs of the bow. When drawing back the bowstring, the muscles exert a force on the string that bends the limbs backward. The amount of force that the fingers exert on the string when pulled all the way back is the draw weight. The spring energy is now “potential energy” that can be converted into launching an arrow when the string is released.”

“The principles of archery are the same for humans, you know?” Jim comments and Spock ignores him and continues with his explanation.

“The draw weight is proportional to the draw length. The more the limbs of the bow are deformed by pulling them back further in your draw length, the more the archer increases the force that in turn increases the stored potential energy.” 

Jim is resting his chin in his hand and watching amused and fond as Spock mimics the movements of pulling a bowstring back. 

“Holding the bow at full draw, the archer has stored a certain number of pounds of “elastic potential energy”. If the string is released without an arrow nocked on it, the energy isn’t converted, it’s reabsorbed into the limbs and bow. With an arrow nocked on the string, much of the stored energy is transferred to launching the arrow.” Spock mimics the release of an arrow and lowers his arms. Jim purses his lips.

“So now that we learned about archery, what was the point of it exactly?”

“The point of it, captain,” Spock says as he rises to his feet, “is that in order for the arrow to travel forward, it must first be pulled back.”

Spock offers him a hand that Jim grasps even as he frowns. “So what exactly are you saying? That I’m the arrow being pulled back? That I’m at the mercy of the archer?”

“No, captain, what I’m saying is that-” Spock pulls Jim to his feet, “you have always been the archer.”

Jim’s hand is firmly clasped in his own and Spock feels what he can only describe like a humming between them, like the way the air feels before a storm. Jim is staring at him and Spock watches as the realization washes over him, as the mood and clouds of doubt are lifted.

“I see,” Jim murmurs, and Spock can see that he is pleased, observes as his smile curves his lips slowly and his eyes go soft. “Thank you, Mr. Spock.”

“None are necessary,” Spock replies and steps away. He waits while Jim picks up his bag before they leave the gym together.

“Did you really attend a semester of archery science at the Vulcan Institute for Defensive Arts?” Kirk asks as they make their way towards the turbolift. 

“I did, captain.”

“Are you any good at it?”

Spock tilts his head. “I am… proficient enough in a case of emergency but by no means would I consider myself to be reliable.”

“Why did you quit?” Kirk asks as they step into the turbolift and calls for their deck.

“As it so happens, I am not suited for long-distance combat,” Spock answers drily and raises a brow.

Kirk laughs, seems almost surprised by his own mirth, and Spock clasps his hands behind his back, certain that whatever storm had been brewing, has now passed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to use a stupid metaphor and then wrote 2k words to get to it. 
> 
> In case it hasn't been apparent, I am ignoring the events of the third movie, and since I don't think I will mention it anywhere, Uhuru and Spock are not a thing anymore.


	3. Winter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PROMPT DAY 3: a season

They are on Nemodena, an M class planet with climate patterns similar to those to earth. The enterprise had been sent out to do an on planet survey and the crew had been happy to finally take on a mission that allowed them to leave the ship. They are a bit over-enthusiastic as a result of that, but it is clear that the planet is uninhabited. They land on the northern continent, where the land is covered in soft mounds of snow and what started as a simple surveying mission, devolves for a baffling reason into what the humans call “a snowball fight”. 

It was Jim who started it, by dunking a pile of snow on top of Dr. McCoy's head. The retaliation was swift and quickly involved other bystanders. Spock watches from a side, hands clasped behind his back. Intrigued he bends down to pick up snow. Even through his gloves, he can feel the biting cold and presses it together between his palms. The moment he opens his hands, the snow falls apart and trickles onto the ground. 

“You need to take more,” Jim shouts and Spock looks up. The captain is making his way towards him, jogging lightly. He has forgone his coat or any other winter garment, aside from a pair of fluffy white earmuffs that Spock had seen him claim as spoils of victory from Lieutenant Ananan earlier. He is flushed with exertion but mostly with joy. Spock wonders when he had become so adept at distinguishing these reactions from his captain.

Jim is now in front of him, bending down to pick up a much larger amount of snow than Spock originally had, and places it in Spock’s hands.

“The trick is to press down hard enough to pack it, but not too much that you break it apart,” Jim explains and places his hands outside of Spocks. Jim isn’t wearing gloves and his fingertips are rosy at the tips, but other than that it is apparent that Jim has no problem with the cold. Jim exerts pressure on Spock’s hands, closing them around the snow and then proceeds to provide further instruction which Spock follows diligently. He is now in possession of a tight, compact ball of frozen water, suited as a projectile. 

“Fascinating,” he says and Jim grins.

“Is it the first time you are playing in the snow?” Jim asks and Spock moves the ball from one hand to another. It is heavy.

“Vulcans have little access to snow like this. My first time experiencing snow was when I was on earth, during a research trip to the northern pole.”

“Ah,” Jim says with a smile. “I imagine there was little opportunity to play at the time.”

“You could say so,” Spock admits and drops the snowball to the ground. 

“What a shame. When we go back to earth we should go to Iowa if it’s winter. It snows so much it’s hard to even get your house door open.”

Spock raises his brows. “That hardly seems like an incentive of going.”

Jim laughs, they are so close together that their arms brush against each other. “It is when you don’t want any visitors. We should go someday, I’ll show how to make a snowman,” Jim promises and looks off in the distance. The snow fight had come to an end, the crew members had dispersed and gone back to their duties.

Spock suddenly realizes that the fight had been intentional, that the captain had incited it as a means to release the restless energy that came from being in too close quarters for too long. Kirk watches the crew, arms crossed, a small satisfied smile curling his lips. It had started to snow again, the flakes dotting Jim’s golden uniform and hair, and Spock thought that he would very much like to go to Iowa and spend the winter there with Jim.

He wonders what that really means.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a struggle to write. This challenge is turning out to be a fascinating learning experience for me.


	4. Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PROMPT DAY 4: dream/nightmare

It is unusual for Vulcans to dream, although not entirely unheard of. It is even more unusual for these dreams to be nightmares. Spock expected nightmares after the destruction of Vulcan, which hadn’t happened, perhaps, because he had so gruelly prepared for it. Perhaps, because he had not been alone during that time. Perhaps because Uhura had been relentless in her efforts to help him grieve.

There hadn’t been nightmares then. Dreams, yes, of his mother, his home, his childhood. Memories of the past mixing with recent moments. It is obvious to Spock, that they are nothing more than the rearrangement of a mind and he has a hypothesis that he most likely experiences dreams more frequently than other Vulcans due to his human influence.

And yet, when the nightmares come after Khan, he is not expecting them. The first time it happens is a week after the incident. It took a week for it happen because Spock hadn't allowed himself to sleep while Jim had been fighting for his life. So Spock waits a week, waits until his captain is awake and alive, until Spock himself can attest to his captain's health, to rest. He meditates, he orders his mind, and goes to sleep. The nightmare begins almost instantly. He is walking towards the warp core, sees Jim slumped against the glass on the floor, and remembers, even in his nightmare, how he experiences the peculiar emotion of denial. He knows what has happened. He knows Jim will die, and yet he walks forward, rests his hand against the glass and there is an ache within his chest that he can only call hope, that another miracle might be bestowed him. He watches Jim die a second time, and in this dreamscape, allows himself to experience the rage all over again. The unbridled fury that had propelled him to look for a man with the sole intention to kill him. 

He is aware that he is dreaming, could wake himself up, and yet he chooses to relive it entirely, forces himself to remember the pain, the hurt, the failure of it all. 

It feels a bit, like atonement.


	5. Hybrid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PROMPT DAY 5: hybrid

He is wandering the ship, once again looking for his captain. There had been an incident earlier that Spock had hypothesized would be affecting the captain negatively. A brief conversation with Dr. McCoy had confirmed it. He had checked the captain’s quarters, had stopped by the gym and was now making his way to the observation deck. It is again late in the gamma shift, and the deck is empty save for one single occupant. 

Spock locks the door behind him. After almost a year into the mission, he has learned to understand the moments where his captain would prefer privacy and Spock is certain that this is one of those moments.

He walks quietly towards where Jim is sitting on one of the benches, looking out of the window at the vastness of space, and sits down next to him. They are silent for a long stretch, looking at the stars. Spock knows that this too is something the captain needs, those pockets of quiet where he is not expected to fulfill any social contract.

So he waits and if there is something that Spock has learned, is how to be patient. After a moment Jim speaks.

“You were released from sick bay,” he says and Spock tilts his head slightly.

“Yes. As I had assured you, my injury was easily repaired and didn’t require any surgery. I am however, to abstain from hand-to-hand combat for at least two days, although I suspect that Dr. McCoy would prefer it were a week.”

“He is overly cautious,” Jim agrees.

“A trait that is most commendable for a doctor.”

Jim goes silent again and Spock considers that this time it might be best for him to reach out.

“Captain,” he starts, “you must not blame yourself.”

“I hurt you,” Jim says and Spock can hear the controlled fury in his voice, can sense it in the way Jim is sitting perfectly still.

“It was not your intent to do so.”

“It happened anyway,” Jim counters and looks at him, his face grim, his eyes sharp with emotions that Spock can’t entirely follow. 

“Yes, both statements are equally true.”

Jim placed his head in his hands. “It’s been almost two years, Spock. It’s been almost two years and I still- I can’t-” Jim breaks off, his fingers tightening on his own scalp. Spock waits and after a moment Jim releases a deep breath. “I can’t allow myself to forget, that I’m not really human anymore, because when I do, people get hurt.”

“Captain-”

“Please, call me Jim,” he pleads and Spock understands that this is not his captain being playful, understands that this request is so much more than that.

“Jim,” he says and watches as Jim looks at him. “One’s humanity is not measured by one’s physical abilities.”

“I know, that’s not- fuck, Spock, I broke your arm because I forgot to control my strength, because I let my emotions get the best of me,” Jim says and runs a hand through his hair. It’s already dishevelled and Spock knows he’s been probably doing that for quite some time. He looks out the window and thinks for a moment on how to best explain what he wants to say and decides that a personal experience would be the most effective way.

“As you know,” Spock starts, “my mother was human, and as a child I learned that my mixed blood would forever be considered inferior to that of other Vulcans. My achievements, no matter their greatness, would forever pale to the ones of others whose blood was pure. For as long as I can remember, my human heritage has always been considered a disadvantage, and for many years, I believed this to be true.” 

“And yet, serving on the Enterprise has confirmed something that I had previously only hypothesized,” Spock turns and locks eyes with his captain. “That the achievements of humans were not in spite of their emotions, but rather, because of them.” 

“You, Jim, are not an exception to this. Khan’s blood helped bring you back to life, I find myself unable to regret that. You are not Khan, and perhaps, in some ways, you are not the same Jim Kirk either. However, this does not mean that you have ceased to be Jim Kirk entirely. The universe is a living organism, in constant change, and so is every other organism that exists within it. We exist as lineal beings, we have a past and a future, and we are never really the same from one fixed point in time to the next. Perhaps, you are not the same Jim Kirk you used to be before you met Khan, but neither are you the same Jim Kirk who got into a fight in a bar in Iowa.” Spock pauses and raises a brow. “And yet, curiously, you are the same Jim Kirk who hacked a test because he didn’t agree with the choices he was presented with.”

Jim laughs at that and Spock sees some of the weariness leave him. “Jim,” he says and waits until he has his captain’s attention. “You are the most human human I have encountered, this is something you can be certain of.” 

“I-” Jim starts and then takes a deep breath and the rest of his weariness seems to leave with it. “Thank you.”

“You are welcome, Captain.”

“I’m sorry I broke your arm during training today,” he states, firmly, seriously, but without the heaviness of guilt, and Spock nods. This is something he can accept.

“Although unnecessary, I accept your apology.”

Jim nods and Spock knows that this issue has been laid to rest. Jim possesses a unique ability that allows him to efficiently process his emotions, he isn’t one to dwell on something once it has been resolved satisfactorily. Spock, however, will remain vigilant in the coming days to ensure that nothing else is weighing on his captain’s mind unnecessarily. 

“The most human, human, huh?” Jim says after a moment and turns to look at him. “Even more than Bones?” he asks, amusement curling his lips, and Spock tilts his head. 

“Dr. McCoy exists within a category of his own,” Spock answers and Jim laughs.

“Are you saying that he is one of a kind?” Jim asks with mirth and Spock suspects that there is a secondary meaning to the sentence that he is missing.

“I would hope that to be the case, the universe might be unable to handle two of them,” Spock answers gravely and is gratified when Jim laughs. They remain in the observation deck for some time, in companionable silence, with Jim watching the stars with a smile, and with Spock watching Jim.


	6. I-Chaya

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PROMPT DAY 6: animal

As a child, Spock had a pet Sehlat called I-chaya. He formed a bond with I-chaya that he didn't know he wanted, wasn't expecting it. But the connection was forged almost instantly. It had been his mother's idea to get a pet and Spock is, in hindsight, mildly surprised that his father had agreed, for he is sure that his mother's motivation had been a purely emotional one. He can never know now, he hadn't thought of asking her about her reasons to get him a sehlat, but he can extrapolate and he is fairly certain that she quite simply hadn't wanted her son to be lonely.

I-chaya taught him many things, that connections could be forged with any other being, regardless of their intellectual abilities. That there were many different ways to communicate. That companionship was a worthy aspiration. He learned about affection and loyalty. 

And at the age of 7 years, he learned about sacrifice. And he learned how to carry the weight of those whose loyalty he'd earned. These are lessons he doesn't have to think about because they were so profoundly ingrained in him when he was a child.

He is thinking about it now.

He has a head wound, a minor one, and a gash on his left arm which is irksome but not life-threatening. The phaser wound on his side, however, is. He has acknowledged those facts and is pushing forward regardless. Time is precious, his captain is in danger and the plan that they have come up with has very little leeway for mistakes. 

Starfleet had once again provided them with faulty intel, Careena was clearly far more advanced than at first determined, and, what was worse, much more violent. They had been ambushed almost the moment they had beamed down, out of the 8 person landing party, two were killed immediately. If it hadn't been for the captain, Spock would have been killed as well. As it was, he was still alive, and his captain and two other crew members were being held, prisoners.

The order had been to return to the ship, to regroup and flee if that was the only course of action. Leaving hadn't been an option, and even if it had been possible, Spock is certain he would have chosen to storm the prison regardless.

He would not leave his captain behind again.

Spock has Sulu and Hendorff on his side. Their loyalty and their anger will ensure their success. Of this, Spock has no doubt. While Sulu is busy dismantling the forcefield generator, Spock and Hendorff have made their way through the prison to find their missing crew members. They acquire the information easily enough through unwilling guards. They find the captain in a room down a long corridor with other cells. Spock shoots the lock with the phaser and kicks down the metal door only to dodge Jim's fist which comes flying straight to his face with enough force to dent the metal of the walls.

"Captain," Spock says, moving away again and then Jim blinks.

"Spock?"

"Captain, we have come to your rescue," Spock explains and looks into the cell to see that Jim had forced himself out of shackles. Spock arches a brow. "Although perhaps, unnecessary," and Jim makes a face.

"Didn't I tell you to head back to the ship?" Jim asks. 

"Yes you did," Spock agrees and offers Jim a phaser he doesn't take. 

"I would so absolutely court marshal you just to make a point but right now I am glad you are here," Jim says and then Spock notices that Jim is not really looking at him but rather to a side.

"Captain?"

"It seems Commander, I'm blind at the moment," Jim answers with a chagrined smile, troubled and stressed. Spock nods.

"I see," Spock says and Jim snorts. The pun was unintended. "Do you have any other injuries?" Spock asks and Jim shakes his head.

"Nothing major, nothing that won't fix itself by the time we reach the Enterprise," Jim says and Spock knows that that statement can mean anything from a scrape to a broken bone. He has to blink twice before he succeeds in getting the Captain into proper focus. They are running out of time.

"Please hold on to my shoulder and stand behind me. We are in a narrow corridor, well walk straight ahead approximately 9 meters and then we will take a right. We are recovering with Lieutenant Hendorff who has hopefully found Ensigns Jo'r and Meehlan," Spock explains as he starts walking. 

"You are injured," Jim says.

"Yes," he agrees and reaches for the door. 

"How bad?" Jim asks and Spock feels the corner of his mouth twitch to a side.

"I estimate I will lose consciousness within the next 45 minutes," Spock answers and feels Jim's hand on his shoulder tighten.

"When we get back to the ship we will have a serious conversation about obeying orders," Jim says and then abruptly pulls Spock back. A phaser shot blasting right where they had been standing. Spock returns fire and then rechecks the corridor.

"Sight?" Spock asks and starts moving again. 

"Hearing," Jim says and Spock nods. They are quiet the rest of the way and run into Hendorff halfway to the exit. He has the other two ensigns with him, weak and wild-looking but alive.

"The captain is visually impaired at the moment," Spock says and looks at the ensigns. "Are you?"

"No, we are fine," Jo'r confirms and Spock's hands her his other phaser.

"Lieutenant Hendorff, you take point, Ensign Jo'r and Meehlan you take the rear," Spock orders and he knows, he knows Jim hates to be placed in the position of being protected, and he apologizes for it in his mind, as if his thoughts alone could reach Jim. But Jim squeezes his shoulder again and Spock thinks that maybe he can.

They start moving again, carefully checking each corner of the labyrinthian building when the ground rocks suddenly and a boom sounds in the distance.

"Sulu?" Jim asks.

"Yes," Spock confirms and he doesn't have to turn around to know that Jim is smiling. The building seems to come alive then and it is very clear that they have to run or they'll risk being outnumbered. 

"Everyone go," Jim orders and he shoves Spock forward. Spock reaches back and grabs his hand, there is something building in the back of his head that feels suspiciously like panic and that means that his former estimate of 45 minutes might have been wrong. He holds on tight to his captain's hand and they run. 

They shoot their way out of the building and emerge into a courtyard where mayhem is going on. There is a large fire, and several small ones, going on around them, Spock looks back and blinks at the massive black plume of smoke that is floating up. Sulu might have been a bit more upset than he had originally estimated. 

He feels the ground move again but this time it wasn’t an explosion. He lands heavily on one knee and Jim kneels down in front of him, reaching out with frantic hands.

“Spock?” Jim asks and Spock looks up straight into Jim’s unseeing eyes. They are vivid blue, iridescent, and as he feels the transporter beam dematerialize them, he feels relief. Spock is unconscious by the time they land on the transporter pad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a super interesting exercise in stream of consciousness writing. I really didn't know what to do with this prompt and then I remembered I-chaya is an animal... and then that somehow lead to a prison escape. So there is that.


	7. Psychopomp

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PROMPT DAY 7: mythological creature

Spock is on a small, narrow vessel in a river. A heavy mist is laying over the water, obscuring his view from all sides. The only thing he can see clearly is the figure clad in black standing at the helm of the vessel. Standing completely still, it holds up a lantern as the narrow boat gently sways in the water. Spock looks up but there is no sky, just more of the same endless mist.

He looks at the still water. His last memory is of looking up into the Captain's unseeing eyes as they were surrounded by guards, as explosions went off in the distance. He remembers the relief of feeling the tingling sensation against his skin of the transporter beam engulfing him, and even though he doesn't remember being re-materialized on the Enterprise, he doesn't think this is death. Even though he has never experienced it, Spock feels confident enough in his abilities to recognize death, and so he surmises that he is most likely in a healing trance or perhaps, less optimal, in a coma, and if that were the case, then this a dreamscape.

He looks down at himself. He is wearing his Starfleet uniform, impeccable, neatly pressed, and familiar. He looks around again and inspects the water. It seems to him to be obvious that they are moving, even though there is no way to determine how that movement is being caused. The figure at the helm is motionless, all it is doing is holding up a lantern. 

Spock thinks about the logic of dreams. If this is his own mind, then surely he ought to be able to find answers. He closes his eyes and tries to meditate, filing away the curious sensation of meditating within a dream.

"Where am I?" Spock asks.

"You are here," the being at the helm answers. A profoundly useless observation but not an inaccurate one.

"Where is 'here'?" Spock tries again.

"Nowhere," the being answers."

"Who are you?" Spock asks.

"I am me," the being answers.

"Do you have a name?" Spock continues.

"I have many," the being answers.

"Where are we going."

"To a destination."

"Where is this destination?"

"Whatever you want it to be."

Spock frowns again. "Where am I?" Spock asks again 

"Everywhere" the being answers.

Spock is silent for a moment. "Your answers are not very forthcoming."

"The quality of the answer depends entirely on the quality of the question," the being answers and Spock thinks for a moment in silence.

"You said that I am nowhere and everywhere. This is impossible."

"Is it?"

"I can not exist simultaneously in two places at the same time."

"How do you know?"

"The laws of the Universe say so."

"The laws of your Universe are based on your ability to perceive reality through your limited senses."

“Are you implying there is more than one Universe.”

“There are as many universes as there are perceptions of it.”

“Perception is not real.”

“The universe is a perceived reality.”

“What does that mean.”

“That the universe both exists and doesn’t exist simultaneously.”

“So this place?” Spock asks looking around.

“Is not a place.”

“It is a dream.”

“Is it?”

Spock tilts his head. “I am in trance or unconscious. This is happening within my own brain. So this is not real.”

“Isn’t a dream the tangible embodiment of a consciousness?”

“It is the reorganization of arbitrary information.”

“And if you remember this dream, it will become a memory. Are memories not real?”

Spock frowned. “They are.”

“So then what distinguishes a dream from a memory?”

“One is imaginary, one is not.”

“Imaginary things are not real?”

“They exist within their own realm.”

“And yet they have the power to affect that which resides outside that realm.”

“But it can not exist outside that realm.”

“But you exist within it.”

“So is the nature of consciousness.”

“And thus it is possible for you to exist in more places than one simultaneously.” 

“My memories reside within me,” Spock corrects. 

“But it is you who resides within your memories.” The figure states and Spock remembers kneeling on the other side of a glass watching his captain die. Remember each moment with excruciating detail, dreams of it frequently. He is a linear being, residing in a past. He looks around, the mist is thicker, it’s getting darker. He can no longer see the water. He looks at the being standing at the helm, facing forward, lantern held high.

"Where am I going?" Spock asks again.

"That is the wrong question."

"What is the right question." 

"Where do you want to go." The being says and turns around. And the last thing Spock sees before the lantern turns off, is that it has the body of man and the head of a hound.

Spock wakes up.


	8. Lightning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PROMPT DAY 8: element

Spock remembers vividly the day the Captain was released from Starfleet Medical. Spock was there, had gone to pick him up even though he hadn’t needed any help, but Spock had offered and Jim had accepted, and so they left Starfleet Medical side by side, Jim carrying a small duffel bag. They reached the transport that Spock had acquired from Starfleet and Spock took the controls, setting a course towards Jim’s current temporary housing, the same building he was staying at, only to have Jim cancel the order. 

“I have been instructed to take you to your residence,” Spock said and Jim had smiled, wicked and quick, making his eyes dance.

“You’ve been instructed to take me _home_ ,” Jim corrected and Spock watched him for a moment. He remembers how at the time he had been mesmerized by the unearthly blue of Jim’s eyes, how he had known Jim would quirk his lips to a side just so, how he had immediately understood what Jim was saying. He remembers changing the vehicle's controls to manual and driving off without even acknowledging Jim’s demands. It hadn’t been necessary, they had understood each other perfectly.

They drove out of San Francisco, with Kirk busy with his communicator contacting people, using the vehicles’ computer to perform a series of operations that Spock doubted skirted the definition of legal. But he had long accepted that laws had to be flexible or they risked being broken, and so he focused on driving, and then took the vehicle to its maximum speed once they reached the highway. 

Jim had smiled.

They’d reached the shipyard in just over an hour and Spock parked the vehicle in one of the reserved spots. They needed permits to be able to enter but Spock had no doubt that Jim would have seen to that on their drive there. They had stepped out and Spock walked to the other side of the vehicle to stand next to Jim, who was leaning on the hood, and both of them looked towards the open hangar, the Enterprise looming large and regal in front of them. It was still in pieces, the refit still had six months to go, but it didn’t matter. Even Spock could feel a pull towards the vessel, a most illogical impulse.

“She is something, isn’t she?” Jim had said and Spock had looked at him. Three months before he had watched Jim die on the other side of a glass door, had watched the light leave those eyes, had felt Jim’s very spirit snuff out like a candle. Three months before, he’d seen Jim come back to life, against all odds, against the laws of the Universe itself, and Spock had seen the light come back like a bright, unstoppable force.

He watched him now, the wind blowing his hair softly, his lips curling softly, fondly, and when Jim turned, his eyes were like lightning bottled and Spock said:

“Yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ITS STILL MIDNIGHT.


	9. Robes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PROMPT DAY 9: fashion

A week after Spock is released from sick bay, the Enterprise docks at New Vulcan and Spock beams down to the surface alongside many other officers. It’s another diplomatic mission. Starfleet had wanted to show its support by offering the Flagship of the Fleet to escort an unusually large convoy bringing supplies to the colony.

Spock steps off of the transporter platform and makes his way towards the exit of the station, where his father is waiting. 

“Spock,” Sarek greets, lifting his hand in the traditional Vulcan salute. 

“Father,” Spock answers with a nod. “I am gratified to see you well,” Spock admits and his father acknowledges him with a nod. 

“As am I,” Sarek adds. “I have a vehicle available to take us to my residence. I see you have brought your bag with you, am I correct in assuming you will be staying for the duration?” They start moving towards the parking place.

Spock inclines his head. “If it does not cause any imposition, yes.”

“It does not,” Sarek confirms as they climb into the vehicle and drive off. It has been over a year since the last time Spock had visited the colony and the passage of time is visible in the expansion of the colony. It does not look like Vulcan did, there is something oddly artificial about it, there is perhaps too much of an emphasis on efficiency and practicality and it translates in the way the city is shaped. However Spock understands the need. Vulcan is not without its art and its own aesthetic, but perhap right now, there are other aspects that remain far more important than style.

He asks about the colony and as he expected, he receives a wealth of information about it. By the time they reach Sarek’s home, Spock is in possession of a vast amount of data. They share a meal in which Spock tells his father about his research, his experiments and their missions. He does not mention that two weeks ago he’d been so close to death that he had spent a day in a coma and two more in a healing trance. Even now the wound on his side remains tender. 

In the afternoon, Sarek offers Spock a visit towards the recently inaugurated Vulcan Science Academy and Spock accepts. It is near the residence and so they walk instead of driving. It is warm and dry, the climate fairly similar to Vulcan, but it is apparent that the temperature is more tempered on the colony. The Academy is also different, but not less regal than the one he attended. It looms large and majestic amidst the other building, a large garden surrounds the complex, and long hallways with wide, open arches give the building an almost ecclesial air. Spock thinks that if Vulcans were to be prone to worship, knowledge would be their closest god. 

They are on one of the upper floors, walking along a wide terrace, which oversees the garden and the city. Sarek is telling Spock about the building and the future of the Academy and then his attention is entirely diverted by the two figures who are standing on the other end of the terrace. 

He recognizes Ambassador Spock immediately, and it takes Spock a moment to recognize the other figure as his captain, dressed in Vulcan robes. Spock experiences something peculiar then, something warm spreading in his belly up his spine. He listens to his father even as they get closer to the Ambassador and Jim, but his attention is split as he can see more and more details. Jim is smiling as he listens to whatever the Ambassador is telling him, his eyes creasing, his hair swaying in the slight breeze. He is illuminated by the blazing sky behind him. The robes are dark, casual and fit him perfectly. It’s a short version, similar to meditation robes, with wide sleeves and tight fitting trousers and Spock wonders where the captain acquired them and how long he’d possessed them. 

“It seems that Ambassador Spock has also decided to show Captain Kirk the Academy,” Sarek remarks.

“It seems so.” Spock answers and now they are close enough to being noticed. He watches, chagrined how Jim’s easy smile slowly disappears, replaced by an emotion that Spock can not comprehend, something stormy and dark and tense. It’s the same expression his captain has had ever since Spock woke in sick bay two weeks ago. On the surface, their interactions seemed the same on the bridge and during their meetings. But something had changed between them and Spock couldn’t exactly point out what had changed in their dynamic. But it was different and now that Spock had experienced the captain the way he knows him, carefree, happy, joyful, the tension between them is even more evident.

“Counselor,” Jim greets Sarek, lifting his hand in the traditional salute.

“Captain Kirk, welcome to New Vulcan,” Sarek greets. 

“Had I known you were interested in the Academy I would have asked you to accompany us,” Spock says and Jim looks at him, but his gaze is guarded and somehow Spock feels as if Jim were shielding his thoughts from Spock. A most illogical thought. They do not share that kind of connection. 

It is Ambassador Spock who answers instead. “We were meant to meet earlier but my meeting with the Academy’s Board surpassed the expected allotted time frame. The Captain was kind enough to meet me here instead,” the Ambassador answers and looks at Jim who smiles in return and Spock carefully clasps his hands behind his back.

“I see,” Spock answers but he doesn’t. He is… unsettled, and he can not understand the source or reason for the emotion. 

“No hardship at all, I wanted to see the Academy as well. It is a beautiful building.”

“The purpose of the architecture is to facilitate the flow of air and efficiently dissipate the heat,” Sarek and answers and Jim nods.

“Function and beauty can co-exist,” Jim replies and looks at Spock, his eyes searching for something and Spock is reminded of the day after the Niribu incident, where Jim had looked at him the same and said he’d miss him and Spock hadn’t known the right answer back then either. 

“That is true,” Sarek acknowledges. “Would you like to join us?” He offers and Jim shakes his head.

“I believe we were leaving,” Jim answers looking at the Ambassador who seems almost indulgent in his expression, and Spock experiences another moment of irrational anger at the interaction.

“We were,” the Ambassador agrees. “Thank you for the invitation, Counselor. I do believe however I will see you at the reception tonight?”

“Yes,” Sarek says.”

“Very well, until then,” the Ambassador lifts his hand in greeting which Spock and Sarek repeat and then watch as the Ambassador and the captain leave. Spock looks back for a long moment, lost in thought. He doesn’t notice his father watching him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly I wanted to make Jim wear a scampy outfit as in classic TOS but somehow the tone was too sombre for that..


	10. Change is the Essential Process of All Existence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PROMPT DAY 10: quote

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Change is the essential process of all existence."  
> \- Spock

Although Vulcan's have little patience for that which is inefficient and ineffective, they are staunch believers of protocol. The reception that night is therefore certainly a formality, but one that in the case of New Vulcan carries far more meaning than it used to before Vulcan's destruction. Spock realizes this as he is standing off to a side of the room, and sees what he is fairly certain is every prominent Vulcan in existence, mingling with other Federation and Starfleet officials. The convoy they had escorted had brought with them a minor delegation of officers, and most of the Starfleet officers at the reception are from the Enterprise, but Spock understands that the reception is not for the sake of New Vulcan's guests, but rather, for Vulcan's themselves.

The event is hosted in one of the grand salons of the High Council, another recently inaugurated building, that in Sock opinion crossed the line of ostentatiousness. It's a wide room, with high arching ceilings and is almost completely surrounded by glass doors. It projects, without any doubt, a sentiment of grandeur and vastness, something Vulcan's might not have entertained before the destruction of their home planet, but which now had become a symbol. 

We will be grand again.

He sees Uhura walk towards him and he squares his shoulders a bit.

"Commander," Uhura greets and stops next to him.

"Lieutenant," Spock replies with a nod and then proceeds to wait in silence. Lately, she had been making overtures like these to bridge the gap that had opened when they had dissolved their romantic relationship even before the beginning of their 5-year mission. During the year and a half, they had already spent in space, they had worked seamlessly together, but the distance had remained, their interactions had been purely professional, and Spock was willing to accept whatever boundaries she set. 

"I wanted to thank you for introducing me to T'Sol."

Spock inclines his head. "I was certain that the meeting would be beneficial for both of you. Am I correct in assuming that he was helpful for your thesis?"

He sees her smile before she lifts her glass. "You are correct, Commander. He is incredibly knowledgeable when it comes to Vulcan dialects, but more than that, he is very good at explaining that. He must be an excellent teacher." 

Spock nods. "I have not had the opportunity to experience that side of him myself, I defer to your excellent judgment on that."

Uhura hums and then says: "He also said you punched him in the face as a kid."

Spock looks away, moves one hand to rest on the small of his back. "I fail to see the relevance of a childhood incident to your current field of study," Spock answers in what he is certain is a poor attempt at misdirection. 

"Uhu," Uhura says and then smiles. "He said he deserved it."

Spock blinks entirely surprised. T'Sol is an excellent linguist, one who is now doing commendable work in preserving the ancient knowledge of Vulcan languages long past, but he is also the same man who, as a child, had called his mother a human whore. Spock supposes that maturity meant understanding that those two truths could exist simultaneously. 

"It is most gratifying to hear that T'Sol's growth goes beyond linguistics."

"People change," Uhura said with a steady look. 

"Change is the essential process of all existence," Spock says and knows that Uhura understood the reference when she smiles.

"So it is," she says and it was the first time in a long time that Spock felt that perhaps, someday, they could have something resembling a friendship. "Thank you for the introduction," she adds and with one final look, leaves. Spock watches her until she is lost to him in the crowd and thinks about the nature of relationships and people and change and growth. 

Nyota is and will forever be a dear friend to him, of that he has no doubt. And even though he understands that they are currently navigating what that relationship looks like for them, he is certain that regardless of the outcome, his regard for her won't change. In many ways, she has shaped him into the person he is now and he knows that he is better for it. 

Spock looks around over the high arching dome and across the people and almost as if pulled by it, his gaze lands on Jim who is amidst the crowd talking to a small group of Vulcans. He is wearing Starfleet's standard dress uniform in white. Spock knows that the captain dislikes them, not because of the fit but rather the color, because Jim might be agile and quick with his reflexes, but he is also paradoxically clumsy when it comes to food and drink and is therefore completely incapable of not spilling anything over himself. This characteristic is not a secret among the crew and Spock knows, although he disapproves, that there are often betting pools to determine how long the captain will successfully maintain his dress whites clean.

Spock continues watching as Jim and thinks again about the nature of change. There is no doubt that their relationship has come a far way from their initial meeting. But Spock thinks that it is also true that neither of them are the same people they were when they met. Jim is and isn't the young cadet biting into an apple, sitting in a captain's chair while he blatantly cheated his way through a test. Spock is not the Instructor who brought him to the student court on charges of fraud. 

What they had lived through, the destruction of Vulcan, the hunt for Nero, the death of Admiral Pike. The death of Jim. No, they had not remained unchanged through all of that, but just as with Nyota, his and the captain's relationship was also changing. He knows that ever since Khan something had shifted between them, that it is still shifting now, and that the lines and the boundaries are still not set. In the past few days, the distance between them has been growing, a distance that Spock doesn't understand but that he now realizes doesn't want. He is bothered profoundly by it, in ways he has not ever experienced, and he thinks that perhaps he has been too passive.

Spock watches Jim from afar and makes a decision and as if drawn by another force, Jim looks back at him directly and their eyes meet across the room. There is a question there and Spock doesn't know what the answer is, but he will do whatever it takes to figure it out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it cheating if the quote is from TOS Spock?


	11. Magic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PROMPT DAY 11: magic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I missed the deadline by 5 minutes orz.

Spock remembers when he had first discovered the captain’s love for books, particular the old fashioned paper ones. It was early on their first mission, when he had gone to the captain’s quarters to deliver a report and had found Jim sprawled on the small couch, a paperback in his hand, one that was dog-eared and worn and clearly well used. It is one of Spock’s most vivid memories, the unexpectedness of it, the casualness of it. The captain had removed his command gold shirt and was just in uniform pants and black under shirt. He had also taken off his boots and he was reclining on the couch with his feet up, reading. It had been apparent that this was routine for Jim, that he probably often retired to his quarters to read and Spock had found it intriguing. 

He knew now that Jim loved books, had a fondness for classics, but would read anything and everything that he could get his hands on. Anything from romance novels, to literature, to poetry, and fantasy and science fiction. 

Spock also remembers when he had inquired about that hobby, and how Jim had seemed almost bashful about it and had simply said that as a child, books had been his way to dream.

Spock is thinking about this now, as he walks onto the observation deck and finds the captain on one of the benches, watching out into the Universe. It’s been a week since they left New Vulcan and they had yet to talk about… whatever it is that they must talk about. But Spock is determined and so he picked this moment of the day where he knows they won’t be interrupted, where he knows the captain’s mind is not filled with his daily duties, and he picked this place because it is a neutral place for both of them. It doesn’t belong to either of them, or rather, Spock thinks, it belongs to both of them.

He walks silently towards where Jim is sitting and makes enough noise to alert his captain who doesn’t turn to look at him until he is almost in front of him.

“Captain,” Spock says when he is close and Jim nods.

“Commander?” Jim answers and there is that sensation again between them, a sort of tension, something filled with expectations. Jim looks down at Spock’s hands and hands over his present. It’s a book, an earth classic, one he knows Jim enjoys and one he went through great lengths to procure in a hard printed copy. Jim stares at it and then at Spock.

“It is customary amongst humans, to accompany an apology with a token,” Spock explains and Jim slowly smiles, clearly confused, but reaches out with a hand to accept the book. 

“Verne?” Jim asks and Spock nods.

“I do know you do not yet own a paper copy of this particular collection. It is only a reprint, I’m afraid, I understand that first editions are very coveted when it comes to books.”

Jim is leafing through the book, his fingers trailing carefully over the pages, his face softens with a smile. “I remember reading this as a kid. I have another book from Jules Verne, I won it in a poker game, if you can believe it,” Jim replies with a grin.

“It has come to my attention that most of your books you have acquired through such… unconventional means.”

“Hmm,” Jim says and touches the cover. “I used to love books, when I was a kid.”

“So you have told me,” Spock says and Jim pats the seat next to him. Spock sits down.

“I...growing up was sort of shitty for me, for a lot of reasons. I was a bit of a shitt kid too, so that didn’t help. I think I was about 8 years old when I discovered my love for it. Things were bad at the time, they got worse later on, and reading…” Jim breaks off again and Spock waits silently next to him, controlling his impulse to reach out and touch the captain. “It was like magic, Spock, whenever I would open a book, it was like being transported to another place, another time. Reading allowed me to understand the world around me, in many ways. Books helped me make sense of everything. Even if for a little while.”

Spock inclines his head gently. “I too found solace in the written word. I understand the… desire to find connection,” Spock confesses gently. 

“Thank you, for the gift,” Jim says and tilts his head to a side. “May I know what you are apologizing for?” He asks and Spock carefully clasps his hands behind his back.

“The truth is captain, I am uncertain what it is I need to apologize for,” he confesses and watches as Jim’s eyebrows arch. 

“Then why are you apologizing?” Jim asks, clearly confused.

“It has come to my attention that in the last 22 days you have been actively avoiding me. Even though there could be several reasons for this, it is my experience that it is more likely because you have ceased to feel… comfortable within my presence. I do not know exactly what it is that has caused this reaction, but I do find myself… regretful for it, and I would like to make reparations if I could,” Spock finishes and Jim blinks at him a few times, and then Spock inclines his head. “I am sorry, Jim,” he finishes. Jim lifts a hand to rub at his eyes and lets out a deep sigh.

“No,Spock, it’s me who is sorry,” he says and grows silent. Spock feels woefully unprepared for the situation, he has all the theoretical knowledge but none of the practical experience to help him through this moment. So he deferes to Jim and waits patiently while his captain continues to look at the book, running his fingers up and then the spine. 

“I apologize for...the distance. It’s not you, it’s me,” Jim asys and Spock evaluates his options for a moment before he replies.

“Dr. McCoy once told me that if someone says ‘It’s me, not you’, they usually mean ‘you’.”

Jim lets out a surprised laugh. It lasts only a couple of exhalations but Spock feels like this is the first time in weeks that they are somewhat close to what they used to be. 

“Bones is right, that’s how this usually is. But in this case, it is real. I … there has been a lot on my mind lately. I needed to think.”

Spock nods. “Perhaps captain, it would be helpful to discuss those thoughts. It is my experience that the exchange of theories often leads to a better understanding.”

Jim looks at him for a moment. It is clear that he has a debate going within himself and eventually he says. “I was angry. After what happened in Careena. I was angry at you getting hurt and me being… _useless_ ,” Jim forces out and Spock can see his anger, can feel it in the air. “You were dying, bleeding out in my arms and I could do _nothing_ ,” Jim finishes and stands up, agitated. 

“Captain,” Spock says and waits until Jim is looking at him. “I am alright,” he says and Jim steps closer.

“By sheer luck. By sheer, dumb, luck, Spock. If we hadn’t transported out just then, if Sulu had been just a minute too late, if we had encountered just one guard with slightly better aim, you wouldn’t be here and I- I can’t-” Jim breaks off again, closes his eyes and presses the heel of his palms against his eyes. 

“I told you before, that this, all of this,” Jim turns and gesticulates with an arm, “makes no sense to me without this crew. It makes no sense to me without _you_ ,” Jim emphasizes. “I don’t want to do this without you. And the thing is that I know, you would do the same thing all over again, and the truth is, I don’t know how to handle that,” Jim finishes and Spock thinks he looks exhausted, he looks weary in a way he hasn’t seen him in a long time. Spock stands up and steps close to Jim and this time, gives in to the impulse to reach out and touch his arm gently.

“You are right when you say that were I to find myself in the same situation, I would act the same way. It is my duty as your first officer to protect you, captain. It is also my wish, as a friend, to do so, because I know, you would do so for myself as well.” Spock stops and waits until Jim is looking at him. “I have no desire to lose my life, Jim, but neither do I desire a continued existence without you.”

Jim looks at him then, eyes wildly blue and intense and Spock thinks unearthly.

“So what do we do?” Jim asks.

“What we have always done, captain, we watch out for each other,” Spock answers simply and Jim takes a deep breath which he releases slowly and then nods. They remain in the observation deck for a moment longer, standing so close together that Spock can feel Jim’s heat through his own clothes. He is unsure whether the gap between them had been closed, but he certain that they had at least taken one step forward.


	12. Ocean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PROMPT DAY 12: ocean

Spock is dreaming.

He standing on a sandy beach. He is looking out over the endless expanse of water that spreads out in front of him as far as the eye can see. The horizon is so far away that it is impossible to distinguish where sky and ocean meet. It’s a beautiful day. The sun is high and bright, there is a soft breeze that creates gentle waves which curl and unfold onto the sand at his feet, leaving behind fluffy, white seafoam which fizzes away almost immediately. To the right, the beach extends until it hits a cliff wall and to the left it the beach seems to curve around a forest of tropical trees. Spock looks down. The sand is almost white, it shimmers and glistens in the sunlight. He is wearing federation boots and when he lifts his hands he sees the sleeves of his uniform blues. He looks around again. It is entirely silent except for the sound of the ocean itself. There is no noise of other people, of animals or machinery. Just him and the ocean. 

He can’t shake the sensation he has been here before even as he knows that he hasn’t. This is not a place he knows and yet he has the bone-deep certainty that this is a place that exists. That he has been here before. 

Suddenly he becomes aware of a sensation in the back of his neck, a prickling, an awareness. He is not alone, he knows. He has the peculiar sensation of knowing that someone else is there, but no other queue to confirm it.

Slowly he turns around and-

He wakes up.

He blinks his eyes several times until his eyes adjust to the dark. He is in his bed, in his quarters on the Enterprise. He hears the ever-present hum of the engine as they slice through space and feels the warmth of his quarters. He takes a deep breath and slowly sits up and calls for the computer to turn the lights to thirty percent.

His internal clock tells him that he has slept for six hours and he feels sufficiently recovered but he is still curious about the dream. It felt somehow like a memory in many ways and yet he knows without a doubt that he has never been to a place quite like that. He can still feel the strange tugging sensation at the back of his neck but that too seems to fade away into nothing.

Spock decides to go on with his day. There is no point in dwelling on an issue with as little data as he currently possesses, and he has long learned to not place too much stock on dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had an incredibly taxing weekend. Hence the short update.


	13. Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PROMPT DAY 13: weather

They are on Celes Prime, an M-class planet in the Celes system. Two days ago, the Enterprise had picked up a distress signal from a stranded ship in the system. Their warp coil had malfunctioned and their reserves had almost run out by the time the Enterprise came to the rescue. The fact that the Emperor’s heiress had been on board of the stranded K’etana, had been a happy coincidence that had immediately endeared the Federation to the Celesians. The Enterprise brought the entire stranded crew back to Celes and the diplomatic talks unfolded almost immediately after. 

So far, it has been the easiest diplomatic mission the Enterprise has assisted.

They are staying on planet until a tentative diplomatic agreement can be reached, but Jim has already done the hardest part and at this point the talks remain a formality Jim mostly sits in as a representative while the conversations take place over subspace communication. 

Celes is a beautiful, lush planet. It rains almost constantly and the perpetual precipitation has given place to fascinating flora that the science officers are eagerly exploring. Celesians believe in living as one with nature, and so their settlements are built around their environment. Their settlements stretch vertically, starting up from the ground and spiraling up the gigantic trees that form the dense forests of Celes Prime. Each floor is connected by complex systems of ladders and bridges and all over there are teleport pads available that connect one edge to the other. 

Spock is fascinated by this clearly advanced society, capable of warp-drive but which at the same time maintains a staunch belief in living by nature. Part of the reason is that Celes suffers from frequent electric storms that ionize the atmosphere and creates interference with many of their systems. During such storms, the teleports stop functioning properly and the rudimentary ladders made out of wood prove to be more effective. 

The storms are usually brief, rarely more than an hour, but so intense they become entire curtains of water, almost impossible to walk through them. The Celesians have clearly evolved to withhold such storms, but the Enterprise crew had been advised to seek out shelter if they were ever caught under one of such storms.

Which is Spock’s and Jim’s exact current situation. 

They had gone out exploring on the ground when the slight drizzle had quickly turned into a massive, torrential storm. They had found shelter in a sort of shack which was clearly designed to do just that for wanderers. It is a small space, in one corner it held a bench, in another corner was a pile of what looked to be something similar to cotton but which turns out to be a sort of cloudy blanket. There is a tiny hearth in the center of the room. Spock is once again admired by the way the Celesians had succeeded in so seamlessly combining nature with science. The stove uses real wood to burn, but the ignition mechanism is digital. 

Getting a fire going is quick and easy and even though the interior of the cabin is perfectly dry, Spock can’t quite suppress an illogical sensation of being _waterlogged_. Vulcans are desert dwellers. He does not do well in the damp and the cold. He is aware of fingertips turning icy and he thinks that as soon as the possibility arises, he will return to the Enterprise to change into more appropriate gear.

He feels Jim step up next to him, holding up the blanket.

“Will you fight me on this?” Jim asks with a smile. He had gotten considerably more wet than Spock had and even though he was better equipped to handle the cold, Spock thought that perhaps he wasn’t the only one feeling a little waterlogged. His hair was sticking to his forehead, his command shirt was a deep burnished gold.

“We should sit closer to the hearth,” Spock says in lieu of an answer and they cross the small space to sit in front of the open hearth. Jim has also pushed some more wood closer to the hearth, it is clear he plans to sit there and wait the rain out. 

“Take off your shirt, otherwise we’ll never get dry,” Jim tells Spock and strips off his gold tunic, the black under-shirt is much drier and Spock follows suit. They sling their shirts on the bench so the water excess drips off and the huddle in front of the hearth. They are sitting close to each other, touching all the way from the shoulders down, the big blanket slung over their heads so that all the heat stays inside. 

The storm will last almost two hours, and Spock will remember the quiet, peaceful time he spent huddled under a blanket, enveloped in Jim’s heat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update is hours late but work emergency took priority and I didn't finish with that until 1am. So. Have an update that says absolutely nothing


	14. Treasure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PROMPT DAY 14: treasure

A phaser goes off on the other side of the room, the beam landing millimeters away from Spock’s left ear, so close he feels the very tip get warm. He is huddled behind some crates which provide sufficient protection for the time being but it is not a sustainable one in the long turn. Spock checks his phaser’s battery pack. If everything goes according to plan, he will have enough charge left to fight his way out of the compound.

It’s a risky plan, but Spock has come to realize that this is just the norm when it comes to missions like these, and by that he means the technically non-sanctioned ones. Spock tilts his head and waits calmly for his cue. Technically speaking, they are currently breaking the prime directive, and have gotten directly involved in an affair in a role that nobody could argue is the one of a mediator. However, Spock had agreed with his captain that in this case there had been a choice between regulations and moral duty and Spock knew that his captain would always rather choose what is right.

And this is how they ended up infiltrating the fascist rebel base that had succeeded in acquiring a dangerous amount of Protomatter, enough to level the planet if they weren’t careful. The operation was fairly simple. Neutralizing the protomatter was complicated, so instead, it was about to neutralize the organization itself. The easiest way was to break their formation by initiating multiple small skirmishes that would spread the rebel forces thin. 

The first phase was to create chaos. Six teams of four people had beamed into different locations and had split two-ways or four-ways. Starfleet was not a military operation, but they were trained for combat, and the security team drilled the entire crew relentlessly. Something that the rebels didn’t have. 

Spock heard his communicator beep twice. It was time for phase two. Teams alpha, bravo, and charlie will reconvene and storm the command center from its three different entrances. He waited for a lull in enemy fire and then proceeded to fight his way out of the storage room. He has memorized the floor plan they got through scans from the Enterprise. An explosion goes off in the distance and Spock thinks that Lieutenant Sulu is right on time. Down the corridor to the right, through the main room and the second exit on the left. The door opens and he comes face to face with his captain.

“Captain?” quirks a brow in inquiry even as they proceed down the corridor. 

“Beta team got overrun on the courtyard, alpha is splitting into,” Jim explains and gives him a grin. “I’m with you, commander,” he adds as he positions himself to the left of the door and Spock to the right. Their phasers at the ready. Team charlie checks in and they are all in position. 

Jim gives Spock a look, crystal blue eyes shine with adrenaline and excitement and Spock feels inexorably pulled in by them. It feels oddly intimate, the two of them with weapons at the ready, with the sounds of battle in the distance, staring at each other in a dimly lit corridor. Spock’s ear still feels warm, no doubt he will have a second degree burn on it. Jim’s shirt is torn and there is blood on his left bicep but Spock is certain the wound has healed already. He is grinning and Spock feels his own lips twitch to a side.

Jim gives the order and they storm the command center, phasers blazing, moving seamlessly with each other, around each other, back to back, and Spock feels something ancient thrum in his blood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Maybe the real treasure was the friends we made along the way._


	15. Devotion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PROMPT DAY 15: emotion

They are in the mess hall celebrating Chekov’s promotion to Lieutenant Junior, one that everyone believes is well deserved and would have come much earlier were it not for his age. Spock watches from a side. Even though it is officially Chekov’s party, it is also apparent that the crew is using the party as a moment to bond and celebrate so much more than a promotion. They have just come off a series of intense combat missions and even though they hadn’t lost anyone, they were not without casualties, which in some cases were long-lasting effects. The party had been postponed several times and it had become something to look forward to while the crew stretched thin to meet the demands of their captain.

The reward had been worth it, they had been granted ten days shore leave, an unusually large amount, but Spock had been in the room with the captain when he’d negotiated the terms with the Admiralty. He had been relentless in his pursuit, had argued his case as if in front of a judge, and had been, above all, marvelously logical. Spock has filed that memory away fondly. Two more missions, and then shore on a pleasure planet. No crew deserved it more.

As it always seems to be the case lately, Spock watches his captain. He has been doing his rounds, or rather, has granted audience to the crew members who have approached him. Starfleet might not be a military organization, but there were vestiges of that past that remained still, such as the inherent respect of command. Jim has never been anything other than cordial and he has masterfully navigated the fine line between being approachable and detached from his crew. Spock knows this has not been easy for him and it had been a point of disagreement early in their mission, one - Spock can admit now - where Spock had been at fault and had misinterpreted the captain’s intentions.

Spock remembers those early days as a series of confusing events where he had been perpetually wrong without ever fully comprehending how or why. He vividly remembers a conversation he’d had with Uhura about this and had pointed out that it had never been complicated with her. He knows now that difference was that Uhura had been willing to make more compromises for the sake of their relationship than he had. In hindsight, he had not appreciated her as much as she deserved. Her advice at the time had been for him to approach this like any other problem. It had been sound advice and he had applied the most basic yet most important principle behind science: objective observation. 

So he watched and took note of the results and attempted to deduce the logic behind humans, the logic behind Jim. And at some point that dispassionate, objective scientific method had simply become part of what Spock considered his duties, to predict his captain’s needs before he himself became aware of them.

Such as now.

Spock crosses the room in steady, efficient strides towards his captain. He is currently talking to a couple of ensigns but Spock knows his captain, could read the stress in the line of his shoulders, could see the fatigue in the crease of his eye, could sense his desire to leave like a palpable thread. Jim notices him and they lock eyes. Spock walks a bit faster.

“Commander,” Jim greets and Spock nods before addressing the ensigns.

“If you excuse the interruption, I must speak to the Captain,” Spock says in a polite and firm tone that brokers no negotiation. The two crew members make their excuses and leave. Jim looks at him expectantly.

“What can I do for you, Mr. Spock,” Jim asks warmly, lifting his glass so that all Spock can see are his eyes.

Spock clasps his hands behind his back. “Admiral Paris has requested another review of the Xindi report.” 

Jim groans. “I swear, it’s like they don’t have anything else to do than nitpick my reports,” Jim complains and Spock raises a brow.

“A not entirely implausible deduction,” Spock answers and Jim laughs. “I have taken the liberty to do the requested changes. The report is ready for you to review and sign.”

Jim waves a hand in the air. “If you have looked it over yourself there is no possible way that I could improve it. I’ll sign it and send it off.” 

Spock nods. “This is not a time-sensitive task, it can wait until alpha shift,” Spock explains and he is immensely pleased when Jim narrows his eyes at him.

“And yet you came to tell me about it now?” Jim asks and Spock nods. “Why?”

“To provide you with the opportunity to leave, if you so wish,” Spock explains and watches as Jim’s lips quirk to a side and then places his glass on the table. Spock had been correct in his assessment. 

“I’d rather not have to look at the damn report first thing in alpha,” Jim says, “walk with me?” he asks but it’s rhetorical and they both know it Spock would have left with him even without the invitation.

They leave the mess hall and proceed to walk towards the turbolift and Spock watches as each step away from the party seems to help Jim unwind. 

“I swear Spock, nobody tells you that part of being a captain ages you by an exponential factor of ten, it’s like I’m living in dog years,” Jim says and Spock tilts his head.

“I do not understand what canines have to do with age,” Spock says and Jim laughs. 

“You should ask Bones, he feels exactly the same way,” Jim says looking at him, his eyes still tired but dancing with mirth and Spock thinks that some of the stress has already dropped away.

“I shall endeavor to do so at the earliest opportunity,” Spock replies solemnly and Jim snickers. 

“You say you have no sense of humor and that’s a big fat lie, you are not fooling anybody,” Jim says as he unlocks his door and they both step inside.

“I assure you, Captain, I have no idea what you mean,” Spock answers drily and Jim laughs again. The tension is almost completely gone and Spock thinks his eyes are not quite as tired anymore.

“Let me just sign the damn thing and then perhaps I could convince you to stay for a round of chess?” Jim asks hopeful and Spock, who has increasingly become unable to deny his captain anything, nods in agreement.

“I will prepare the board,” Spock says and follows Jim to the back of the room to the desk. Jim mutters unflattering things to the admiralty and Spock doesn’t notice his lips are softly curving upwards as he locates the chessboard. It’s comfortable, comforting, this routine of theirs and it feels a little bit, like coming home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it cheating if I don't pick one emotion? Spock has all of them, the big gay.


	16. Forgotten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PROMPT DAY 16: forgotten

They are sparring.

They have just finished their last mission and are on their way to Delta Vega, a pleasure planet two cycles away at Warp 4. The last mission had gone well in the sense that no fights had broken out and the diplomatic line had not been crossed, but only just. They had served as a neutral third party to help broker an armistice between two fighting factions on Efferia Prime. The only reason Starfleet had agreed was because Efferia was a rich source of dilithium and even though the factions could not see eye to eye on anything, they did agree that it would be of great benefit to be included in the trading routes for the Federation.

And so Jim and Spock had spent the last week in tense discussions with the intent to craft a peace treaty. It was clear within the hour that peace was not an option, and so instead Jim had used the rest of the time negotiating an armistice. It was not peace, the war was not over, but Jim hoped that the cease-fire would allow more time and resources to be devoted to negotiations at a table, instead of a battlefield.

By the end of it, Spock had calculated an 89.3% probability that the armistice would fall apart and that war would recommence. There was however little else to be done armistice wouldn’t hold and there was little he could do about it, and while Spock had no problem accepting this fact, he knew that his captain would struggle with it. And so when Spock had sought out the Captain that night, instead of offering chess, he had suggested a round in the gym. 

Spock lands heavily on his back and feels the air leave his lungs forcibly. The captain is in excellent form and even though they have been at it for half an hour, he isn’t even winded. Spock scissors his legs, kicks Jim behind a knee and rolls onto his feet. They circle each other slowly. 

“Are going easy on me, Commander?” Jim asks and thrusts his arm forward, the heel of his hand aiming towards Spock’s chin. Spock deflects the attack and attempts a throw but gets blocked. They spring apart again.

“I do not intend to cause you serious harm, Captain,” Spock admits and feints a kick aimed at Jim’s feet. It’s successful, Jim falls for it and Spock succeeds this time in taking hold of Jim’s arm. However, his throw gets thwarted again, with Jim using the momentum to take them both down, and once on the floor, he puts Spock in a headlock and squeezes.

“Do you think you even could?” Jim asks and it’s a taunt, Spock knows it’s a taunt, and yet something ancient and primal responds within Spock. He reaches up and pries Jim’s arms away using nothing but pure strength, locking eyes with his captain and he sees Jim struggle to keep the headlock and his final surrender. 

Spock twists and grabs him before he moves away, clasps his wrists in his hands, and pins him to the mat and then simply says: “Yes.” 

Something shifts between them, something dark and rich spreads through them around them, Spock can feel it like a palpable thing. There is a look in Jim’s eyes that Spock has never seen before. Something unbridled, unchecked, something just on the edge of wild and Spock feels a long-forgotten instinct flare to life. 

Jim kicks Spock off, Spock lets him go. This is no longer about frustrations, or duty to his captain, or any other loftier goal. It has become a battle for dominance, for both of them, and Spock falls into something akin to a trance. Everything around them falls away, the cool air of the gym, the soft lights, the ever-present hum of the Enterprise. Nothing exists, there is only Jim, with his eyes the color of the ocean, his skin flushed rosy-red, perspiration dotting his forehead, his neck, flattening his hair, turning it dark like molten gold. 

Jim charges and it feels like a force of nature, chaotic and relentless, a fury of fists and kicks, of thrusts and parries, coming close and dancing away again. Spock’s grip on him is slippery, his hands sliding over damp flesh as he attempts to grasp and throw, to deflect and control. His mind is blank. There is no time to analyze, to speculate, to calculate strategies, only to react and respond. Later he will appreciate the flawlessness of his training that had engrained the knowledge so intuitively. But for now, he feels like his both hunter and prey as if they are tugging on each other, not allowing each other to move too far.

Spock blocks a kick with his arm and feels the impact rattle his bones. It will bruise. Spock counters with a thrust that connects with Jim’s cheekbone and watches deeply satisfied when Jim’s head snaps back. He recovers quickly, but his cheek is red and Spock knows this too will bruise. They will come off of this with marks, with their touches branded on each other and Spock feels a rightness course through him. 

Jim is relentless, has apparently decided to take Spock down on sheer stamina, and Spock will later think that given the right circumstances, Jim could probably outlast Spock in a fight. But his brashness is what allows Spock to land his own hits with more accuracy. Spock might be winded by the end of it, but Jim will carry the brunt of the damage. His lip is split, his eye is swollen, and even though he can’t see them, Spock knows there are contusions under Jim’s clothes. His knee especially will hurt and that is perhaps his best advantage right now.

Spock kicks out with his left leg, intent on catching Jim on his way down with his right leg. But Jim takes the hit and grabs onto Spock’s leg and pushes himself forward and headbutts him hard. It’s disoriented and unexpected, and Jim recovers faster or, perhaps, is simply more used to fighting when his head is swimming and finishes the maneuver by thrusting both fists into Spock’s solar plexus. Spock feels bends over heaving, his breath rushing out of him in one single agonizing rush, and Jim kicks his legs out under him.

He lands flat on his back, his captain straddling him above, pinning Spocks’ arms to the mat. Spock is not completely immobilized, it is not the best position to control a fallen enemy, but Spock also realizes he can’t catch his breath.

“Do you yield?” Jim asks and Spock is suddenly, brutally aware of every point of contact. Of Jim’s hands searing into his wrists, of Jim’s thighs around his midriff. He looks up at his captain. Hair wild and wet, his face bruised and bloodied, a grin stretching his mouth wide, and Spock feels like he is looking at a long-forgotten deity. 

“Do you yield, Spock,” Jim asks again leaning forward. Spock still can’t catch his breath. There is denial bubbling up in the pit of his stomach, an instinctive refusal to surrender. He struggles for a moment and feels Jim tightening his grip around his wrist, feels him leaning down further and Spock arches his back before finally, going limp entirely. He looks at his captain again, meets his eyes of stormy blue. 

“I yield.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys. Not gonna lie. I had no idea where this was going, but this is where it went.


	17. Enchanted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PROMPT DAY 17: enchanted

Delta Vega V is paradise. 

It was once a fairly unknown colony, located at the time in what was considered the edge of the known galaxy. However, over the past century what once was an almost forgotten tiny colony, had become the main stop for one of the biggest trade routes. Nearby solar systems were rich with minerals and metals which were harvested by different races from all over the quadrant. And as trade and industry developed in the surrounding planets, Delta Vega V had seized the opportunity to use its main resource: its natural beauty. Over the last century, they had turned their already beautiful planet into a paradise where weary travelers could rest their bones, where they could rest and recover. 

And this is where the Enterprise had gone for their extended shore leave, a paradise designed to provide the perfect place regardless of race or interests. Visitors could do anything from going to a beach and lazing about in the sun, to rock climbing in the canyons, or camping in the forests. For those who preferred more intellectual stimuli, they had the option to join exploration parties, or participate in specimen collections. There were sandy dunes and rocky planes to the west for the desert dwellers who preferred the high and dry temperatures and for those who enjoyed the opposite there were the ice caps to the north. There were marshes and rainforests, mountains and planes, and entire compounds built near and under water. 

No place was left unexplored and each ecosystem was carefully, painstakingly preserved. Delta Vega V believed in coexisting with their environment and had adapted to the planet's systems. A unique model, one that many other civilizations had lauded and tried to emulate, with varying levels of success. 

Spock had read about Delta Vega V before, it was after all an example of a colony done right, but he was still impressed when they had first set foot on the planet regardless. The texts had done a poor job of illustrating the enchanting beauty and grandness of the planet. Spock admits that his perspective might be affecting his assessment more positively than warranted, but two days into shore leave he becomes aware of the tension he himself had been carrying around because it is suddenly gone. He can now see how he had been expending more energy than usual to sustain his mental shields, that his resting periods had not been quite as effective for at least the past 60 standard days, and that there had been fatigue so consistently present for so long, that he had become unaware of its existence.

And so perhaps it was all of these factors that made Spock so endeared to Delta Vega V. Perhaps it was the fact that this had been the first proper rest they’d had in almost 700 standard days. Perhaps it was the fact that the past three missions had been both physically and mentally draining. Or perhaps, Spock thinks as he approaches the small bungalow, it’s because it’s the first time in a very long, long time, that he has seen his captain rest.

He is quiet as he treads the wooden floorboards of the corridor that connects all the small huts. He can see that Jim is asleep in the lounge chair that looks out towards the ocean, a book left forgotten on his chest, and Spock watches for a moment the gentle rise and fall of it as Jim slumbers. When he reaches him he stops next to him and clasps his hands behind his back. 

Jim’s face is slack in his sleep and Spock can see the difference that three days away from command has already done for him. The shadows beneath his eyes are no longer quite as prominent as before, the pallor of his skin has been replaced by an almost golden glow, no doubt from the sun itself, and he’s been able to let his guard down enough to nap in the middle of the day. 

Spock reaches out and gives in to an impulse he doesn’t understand and brushes Jim’s hair away from his forehead with the tips of his fingers, mindful of his captain’s rest. Spock notices idly that his hair has grown, Jim has not had the time to have it groomed, and it makes him look oddly young. Spock supposes that assessment is not wrong, he _is_ young. The youngest captain in Starfleet history, who had been thrust into a life-shattering event and had seized command because beneath all the doubts and insecurities, lay a man who would not back down in the face of the unjust. He had pried the captaincy out of Spock’s hands, not because he desired the power or the glory, but because he had determined that that was the quickest, most effective and efficient way to win a no-win scenario, and over the past three years, Spock has learned that Jim will always do what is necessary.

Spock reaches out again, taking the book out of Jim's hands carefully, and he notices that it’s the one he had gifted him after their visit to New Vulcan. He finds himself gratified by this fact. He places it carefully on the table next to the chair and proceeds to watch Jim, feeling the need to hold vigil over his rest.

He is reminded of that conversation they had that day on the observation deck after New Vulcan, where Spock had spoken to Jim about duty. And even though it is still true that Spock feels he is responsible for his captain he has become aware that this too has changed between them. Because that day on Careena, Spock hadn’t been thinking like a commander rescuing a captain. It had been Spock rescuing Jim. And it hadn’t been the commander who had yielded to the captain a week ago on the mat in the training room. It had been Spock yielding to Jim, and even though he doesn’t know what to do about this knowledge, he knows that he can no longer deny that what lies between them goes far beyond duty.

Spock turns towards the ocean. The waves break gently on the turf, the wind is a soft breeze that carries the smell of salt and water and blows away the heat. There are birds flying in the sky and palm trees that sway back and forth, and the combination of all these sensations have a soothing effect even on Spock.

He turns to look back at Jim and sees he has awoken, blue eyes still half-lidded in sleepy pleasure, the smile curving his lips is slow and sensuous 

Delta Vega V is paradise. Enchanting and mesmerizing and beautiful. But Spock knows, without a shadow of a doubt, that paradise to him is not a place but a person, and that he was enchanted a long time ago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at that! An update that isn't at midnight lol. 
> 
> Also Spock, bb, it's okay to be gay for you captain. There are no heteros in space.


	18. Curse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PROMPT DAY 18: holy/curse

Humans have a saying that goes: ignorance is bliss. 

Spock had never understood the relation between one and the other. Knowledge was something that all Vulcans aspired to acquire, a pursuit many dedicated their lives to, regardless of whether this was in sciences or arts or crafts or trades. Knowledge isn’t something inherently good or bad, it just _is_. The problem is not the knowledge itself, but rather what is to be done with it once it’s been acquired. 

Spock is walking behind his captain towards the bridge. He has a cup of coffee in one hand and is carrying a pad in the other one. He is walking slowly, not out of care for his beverage - Spock is almost certain the captain has entirely forgotten he is carrying the beverage in the first place - but rather because he is distracted. It’s early, there is no rush to get to the bridge, and so Jim walks slowly and Spock follows him at the same pace. He has no reason to not catch up to his captain, other than the fact that he wants to observe him. 

Ever since Delta Vega V, Spock has become aware that he is in need of more data. There are currently too many data points lacking in information, too many unexplored variables. It is impossible for him to determine a course of action, to pass any kind of sound judgment when he possesses so little knowledge. And so, he watches his captain walk ahead of him, crew members weaving out of his path, already used to the fact that the captain loses track of where he is and where he is going. Spock… likes this peculiar quality of his captain and it is one of the many things he doesn’t understand. 

Jim has many characteristics he values in a captain. An unshakeable moral core, unwavering loyalty to his crew, an uncanny ability to bring out the best of each of the crew members, and even though Jim has a hard time remembering the names of diplomats and Federation bigwigs, Jim knows everybody’s name on his ship, their families, their trades and skills, what matters to them and what doesn’t. He has a borderline eidetic memory but it’s selective. Spock thinks that it speaks volumes of his captain’s character that what he chooses to remember is about the crew. 

He relies on his crew and does his best to earn that respect back every day. He is unwavering when in command, unafraid of making the hardest choices if it meant that it would be the best for the crew, and would rather face a court-martial than to place any of them in unnecessary danger. He is assertive in the face of uncertainty, creative in his resolutions, and unconventional in the face of the expected.

These are things, Spock thinks, that makes Jim an invaluable captain. One of Starfleet’s finest and Spock agrees. Jim enters the bridge ahead of him. Barely a minute later, Spock does too. He walks to his station and turns towards his captain. He is cursing under his breath, coffee dripping from his wrist down his shirt sleeve and onto his pants. 

And these are the things that don’t make any sense to Spock because that right there, causes an emotional response within Spock and he doesn’t know why. He watches as Jim tries to sort himself out and then glances at Sulu and Chekov. They are both trying their best to keep what Dr. McCoy has referred to a “poker face”, with mixed results. Sulu’s face betrays little, but Spock thinks he can see him pressing his lips together just a touch too tight. Chekov on the other hand is completely red in the face in his attempt to control what is no doubt laughter. Nyota snorts quietly next to him but proceeds with her work. 

Spock steps next to the captain and grasps his cup by the rim. It’s hot but not unbearably so and Jim gives him a look of relief. Ensign Rand comes by and offers him a tissue she replicated and between the three of them, they get the captain into order. The entire ordeal lasts less than five minutes but the effect on the bridge is palpable. Nobody on the bridge will ever doubt the captain’s ability to command the Enterprise. He has proven himself plenty of times, has earned their respect and loyalty. But it is these aspects of his humanity that seem to strengthen that bond even further.

Perhaps that is why Spock feels the same as the rest of his crew. Because the captain is more than just his command. He is a man and Spock has had the privilege to hold his trust enough to see these other aspects of him.

Spock goes back to his science station and proceeds to review his data even as he continues thinking about his current conundrum. More than anybody else on the crew, with the exception of Dr. McCoy, has been privy to the more private, more intimate aspects of Jim. And so Spock knows that Jim is not one without doubt or fear. He questions his decisions and wonders about what he could have done better, what he could have done differently. He feels every loss keenly and Spock knows that were he to ask him, Jim would be able to tell him the names of every member who died under his command. 

He is a people person, charm comes to him naturally, but Spock knows that when he wants to unwind he prefers to do so in his quarters on the small couch, with his feet up and his uniform shirt off and a good book in his lap. Jim is a man of science and of almost cruel reality, but he still believes in the magic of a story, of words written long ago, and their ability to create worlds out of nothing. Jim will not bow down from a fight but he desires peace with an intensity that Spock knows has its roots in the fact that Jim spent so much time at war with himself. He thinks of the Enterprise as a living being, touches her walls with care and reverence, talks to her when nobody else is around except Scotty who shares the same love for her.

Jim has a profound appreciation for life and people, men and women, and everybody else who falls within and beyond that spectrum. He likes to cook even though he is terrible at remembering to eat and will either forget it entirely or eat too much. In spite of Khan’s blood that runs through his veins and that have augmented his strength and speed and reflexes, has improved his hearing and eyesight threefold, has made his body resistant to sleep and oxygen deprivation, he still, bafflingly, remains incredibly allergic to most of the universe. 

He is a study of contradiction, of conflicting traits, a man who learns languages by just listening, who understands complex physics and engineering subjects, who even while being a Starfleet captain, has managed to find the time and energy to submit papers to science journals because he found it fun, a man who enjoys reading poetry and who hums to himself when he’s distracted, and Spock... Spock _likes_ it. Likes all of it. The contradictions and nonsense alike. He is fascinated by him, enthralled and intrigued and is inundated with a constant desire to be with him.

Jim has the mind of a tactician and the heart of a warrior and the soul of a poet and Spock would go to the edge of the Universe and back just to be with him because Spock is suddenly, brutally aware that Jim has carved himself a space beneath Spock’s ribs and he thinks that removing him from there would probably kill him.

It’s thirty minutes into alpha shift. They are slowly making their way towards their new coordinates. There are messages that Spock needs to respond to, work he needs to do, reports he needs to read and write, but all he can do is sit there in the wake of this world-shattering, mind-bending epiphany, rooted to the floor of the bridge and all he can think is that, yes, knowledge can be a curse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm in a rush today so I didn't even re-read this. Apologies for the typos! I will try and check later today just to make sure it's not completely atrocious askhdakjsdhkajsh


	19. Fancy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PROMPT DAY 19: Fancy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double updates today because I, like a total, goof, forgot to post this yesterday orz.

They saved a wild hog in a forest from falling from a cliff and now they are being celebrated by the King of Educono in one of the most lavish parties the kingdom had ever seen. So much, in fact, it would later become a yearly festival but nobody knew that at the time.

The saving of the pig was an accident. The landing party had just beamed down on the edge of a canyon, with the intent of doing a survey mission since their scanners hadn’t detected any intelligent life on the planet.

They had been wrong. 

There was intelligent life on the planet, pre-warp, pre-industry even, but the planet’s unique stratosphere had interfered with the scanners and so their readings had been faulty. And so they beamed right in the way of a wild hog on a rampage towards the abyss. The hog spooked was unable to stop, and collided with Captain Kirk directly, almost sending him off the edge of the cliff as well. Spock had reacted by stunning the animal with his phaser and immediately after that, a group of huge men emerged from the forest also at full speed on foot. 

The two parties stared at each other for a moment, and Spock thought that the plateau they made had to look bizarre no matter the perspective. The Starfleet uniform clearly looked alien to the locals with their bright colors and their equipment just as much, with its beeps and lights and hums. The captain was still sitting on the floor dazed, shirt caked in dirt, and ripped at the shoulder. One Ensign Rand had lifted her communicator to signal to the Enterprise and had frozen with the small metal box in front of her mouth and Spock was pointing a gun at a pig who lay passed out on its side. 

For a moment there was an absolute standstill. 

And then one of the men asked: “Is it dead?”

Spock looked down at the hog. “No,” he answered and then watched with mild surprise how the men seemed to rejoice at his answer.

“Oh, that is excellent news. Princess Corlia will be most pleased.”

What ensued was a bizarre conversation (transcribed in full detail in Spock’s log) where the men explained that the hog, called Nara, was Princess Corlia’s beloved pet which had broken out of its pen and escaped into the woods. The men had been running after it for a long time and they were ever so grateful for the strangers’ help and that the King would surely express so himself if they were to accompany them.

The captain made an attempt to extricate themselves from the entire ordeal, it was bad enough that they had already made contact with a pre-warp species, except just then the King himself rode up, out of the forest on a beast that looked similar to Earth’s Armadillo except it was big enough to carry the King who was at least 3 meters high. He was tall and wide, his hands could easily wrap around each of their heads, and when he spoke, his voice resonated through the canyon like a boom. 

One of the men explained their role in saving Nara, the royal hog (???), and the King did indeed ask them to join him for a celebration. Spock thought that if he concentrated hard enough, he could probably see the prime directive just chuck itself straight off the cliff behind him. He exchanged a glance with his captain and gave him a tiny nod.

On the way towards the Kingdom, the King asked if they were travelers and Jim spun a quick, fanciful tale on how they were explorers from far, far away, to which the King nodded and said: you must be from the east and nobody denied it. 

And so now, merely two hours after landing on the M-class Planet BF-5033, they were in a giant palace, where they were being tended to as heroes of the kingdom. They were offered baths and fresh clothes and servants to aid them with all of that to which the captain attempted to refuse but was met with such vehement resistance he ended up acquiescing, lest he risked a diplomatic incident with a _prewarp species_ and heaven’s if this wasn’t terrible already.

By the time they were led to the grand hall, the festivities were already in full swing. Courtesans, dancers, and entertainers filled the big, cavernous space, there were massive wooden tables covered in heaps upon heaps of food, and the King gave a rousing speech of valor from the travelers from the east and Princess Corlia, apparently, a very young child curtsied and thanked each of them personally for her beloved pet (the hog had now a cape wrapped around its neck and was sitting chained to the floor near her. It seemed entirely tame.) 

The party ends up lasting well into the night and it’s hours until at last they are allowed to retire. They are split into three adjoining rooms lined along a long corridor and this time they are more successful when dismissing the servants. The moment they are finally left alone, Spock slips into his captain’s quarters through the door that connects their rooms.

The furniture is made for the people of this planet, the bed in the middle of the room seems oversized, the ceiling so far removed from their heads, it’s completely dark. The light comes mainly from the two bright moons and candles spread around the room. Jim is standing near the wide glass doors that lead out to the balcony. He is illuminated by moonlight on one side and candlelight by the other and Spock thinks that the setting suits him. The castle is large and looming, made out of gigantic stone blocks, and every room feels too large. 

Jim turns when he hears Spock enters, his long red cape swishing on the floor. All their clothes were very notoriously elegant, given the elaborate design and the heavy fabrics they are made of, but it is also obvious that Jim had received particular additional care. He is dressed in all blues. His shirt is white with a soft collar and sleeves wide and billowing to the elbows where they disappear into a pair of white gloves with gold accents. On top of the shirt, he is wearing a long blue vest that reaches to his knees, his legs clad in equal shade but tight fitting. His boots match the gloves, white and gold and over his shoulders, the cape has white fur trim. Spock thinks he looks a bit like one of earth’s ancient kings, all he is missing is a crown.

Jim gives him a rueful smile.

“Oh boy,” he says and Spock inclines his head.

“Indeed,” Spock replies, and then Jim laughs. Spock agrees with the sentiment. Their set of circumstances is ridiculous.

“How the hell are we going to explain this one to Starfleet?” Jim wonders turning to face Spock entirely and Spock is slightly distracted. 

“The local civilization has not been exposed to our technology or the enterprise. Although the circumstances have been less than ideal, technically, the prime directive remains unbroken,” Spock answers, looking away from Jim’s exposed collarbone and meeting his eyes.

“Unbroken, commander?” Jim repeats skeptic and Spock inclines his head.

“Perhaps a bit… bent,” Spock admits and Jim smiles.

“Alright Spock, what’s the plan?”

“I propose we leave in the morning, appreciative of our host’s graciousness, and make our way back to our landing coordinates. I believe that we have… appeased the King’s desire for protocol. If we were to be unable to leave graciously, perhaps we would have to be beamed out directly although this could have… complicated ramifications.”

Jim crosses his arms. “We could insult the King enough to cause problems.”

Spock nods. “Precisely.”

“Alright, let’s try to leave the castle on friendly terms, and worst-case scenario, we’ll just beam out. Do you think we won’t have any problems using the transporter?”

“During my check-in earlier I asked Lieutenant Scott to verify. He will be able to transport us out using our communicator signal.”

“Good, at least that’s working out alright. What a mess,” Jim sighs and reaches up to fumble at the clasp for his cape and Spock realizes that was what the Captain was probably trying to do when he walked in. Spock is about to offer his help when Jim succeeds and the cape falls off his shoulder and lands on a heap on the floor.

“Oh man, you have no idea how heavy that was?” Jim says with a groan and rubs his neck. Spock leans down to pick up the cape and blinks. It is extremely heavy, he is surprised the captain had managed to move as fluently as he had. He places the cape on a chair and turns at the sound of metal. Jim has removed his gloves and is now unbuckling his belt. Spock feels something tighten low in his belly.

“Before you go, I need your help,” Jim says and Spock’s mind entirely derails at the words combined with Jim’s actions. He has dropped the belt on the bed and is unfastening his vest.

“Captain?” Spock asks because silence is somehow worse and Jim finally gets his vest off only to reveal that there is another garment underneath that wraps around his midriff and over his shoulders. Jim walks towards Spock and turns around.

“There is no way I can unlace this on my own,” Jim says Spock sees that the vest is a bodice tied behind his back with lace. Spock steps forward and proceeds to untie the knot. The bodice remains pulled tight and Spock carefully slips his fingers between the string to free it entirely from its loops. Jim holds still, head slightly bent, shoulders back and Spock is unbearably aware of how close they were standing. He tugs the lace off entirely and Jim lets out a sigh.

“How do people wear this all day?” Jim sighs and shrugs out the bodice tossing it on the chair with the cape and rolling his shoulders to relieve tension. He turns with a smile. He is just wearing the shirt now, which is soft and billowing and almost see-through, standing in front of the balcony with moonlight streaming in and Spock feels his mouth go dry. 

“Thank you, Spock,” Jim says and Spock seems to finally find his composure.

“You are welcome, Captain,” Spock answers with a nod and then leaves. He has no reason to stay any longer and he is not certain what he might do if he does. He doesn’t notice he is still holding the lace of bodice in his hand until he closes the door behind him. After a moment of staring he rolls it up gently around his fingers and keeps it in his fist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO APPARENTLY I FORGOT TO POST THIS YESTERDAY????????? ASIJDLAKSJDALKSD and I was wondering why literally nobody had commented on Jim wearing a bodice.............


	20. Obsession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PROMPT DAY 20: Obsession

Spock doesn’t notice it’s become an obsession until Nyota points it out to him.

“You are staring,” she says as she sits down across from him in the mess hall. He turns his head to look at her and the fact that he had not been aware of her approach proves that she is right.

“Hello, Lieutenant,” he says, deflecting the conversation even as he feels hyper-aware of the fact that his captain is standing by the replicator next to Dr. McCoy. 

“Hello, Commander,” she answers, tipping her head to a side gently as she proceeds to eat. “So, do you want to talk about it?”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand what you mean,” Spock replies even as he is fully aware that there is no possible way to escape the conversation unless he is honest to her and honesty is something that has been hard to come by for him lately.

She gives him an unimpressed look as she chews. “I mean that you have spent every waking moment in the past months staring at the Captain.”

“It is my duty to be watchful over the captain in order to accurately predict his needs.”

“This is so far above and beyond duty and we both know it. Or are you going to seriously tell me that you behaved this way while serving under Captain Pike?” she asks, arching her brow and Spock knows it’s a lost cause but he can’t… this is a conversation he can’t have with her. Not with anybody, but especially not with her.

“I have always placed my duty as a Starfleet Commander above everything else, you should know this better than anybody,” he answers and it’s curt and vicious in a way he had not intended.

“Yes, I do know,” she answers evenly, steadily and Spock is once again reminded of the endless compromises she had made for the sake of their relationship. “Which is exactly why I know this is not just duty. You watch him all the time, whenever you are not required anywhere else, you are most likely to be found by his side, you even seem to know when he is about to enter the room.” She stops and looks at him expectantly and Spock isn’t entirely certain what she expects from him, but one thing is certain, everything she has said to him is true.

“Yes,” he says and this answer seems to surprise her.

“You knew,” she says, her brow furrowing, and Spock is equally confused.

“Yes,” he repeats because he was aware of all his behaviors. He was aware of how he constantly felt pulled towards Jim and sought him out after their shifts for conversation and chess or quiet moments on the observation deck. How he waited for him to go to the mess hall for breakfast together, how they would train together more often than not because sparring had become their main source of exercise. 

Jim is an infuriating mix of intimacy and mystery because Spock knows what the Captain looks like underneath his clothes, had seen him battered and bloodied and bruised, had seen him in all possible stages of undress, and yet none of it had been for the sake of Spock. And yet Spock can still remember that moment in the castle, where he’d unlaced a bodice, achingly carefully and slowly, loop by loop, and that, that had been tortuous intimacy.

He knows exactly what he has been doing ever since their mission started, even before, when he’d driven Jim to the outskirts of San Francisco so they could look at their ship. His problem is not ignorance, it’s aching hyper-awareness of a truth he doesn’t know how to act upon.

He looks at Uhura who watches him silently.

“I see,” she says and then looks at her plate and proceeds to push her food around. “I really thought you didn’t know you were in love with him,” she says and it’s so easy, so simple and Spock knows, of course, he knows, but she has placed the knowledge into words and that is an entirely different thing. 

Spock is overwhelmed with the desire to leave. He stands up abruptly.

“If you’ll excuse me,” he says but Uhura reaches out and holds his wrist to stop him. 

“Hey, I’m- you don’t have to leave,” she tries clearly not understanding entirely what just happened between them but knowing that she has spooked him. Spock stops and feels the tensions rise in his body.

“Nyota,” he pleads, soft and weary, and that is what seems to finally get to her.

“Alright,” she answers quietly and removes her hand. “Just know that you will never get what you want if you just look. At some point, you will have to actually do something,” she says looking straight at him. Spock inclines his head and walks away, carrying his tray towards the replicator. He is not running away, not exactly, but as he watches the remnants of his meal disappear he thinks that it’s really just a technicality.


	21. History

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PROMPT DAY 21: historical era

During Gamma shift, Spock thinks about Nyota’s words. She is right, of course. He needs to make a decision, it’s been long overdue, and in order to do that, he thinks he needs to start to be more honest with himself first. And yet that is the problem, isn’t it? All this time, watching, observing, analyzing, has served him little. In reality, he is not much closer than he was months ago. His research has stalled. Spock tilts his head at the analogy. His research has stalled because he is lacking a frame of reference to build from because this is something entirely new and unexplored for him. He has never been in this kind of situation, not exactly. 

But he has a unique advantage over others. There is somebody he can refer to directly, who knows him better than anybody else ever could and who will understand exactly what his problem is and who can provide guidance based on their own experience.

Spock sends a subspace transmission to arrange a call. It is not entirely without some trepidation that he does so, but Spock thinks, who could it be safer to confide in, than your own self?

***

“Commander,” Ambassador Spock greets once the call connects and Spock inclines his head.

“Ambassador, thank you for acquiescing to my request.”

“Not at all, Commander. I must admit to being most intrigued in knowing how I can be of service to you,” the Ambassador asked and Spock sat up straighter.

“I find myself in the need of counsel and I was hoping you could be of assistance. It is of a… personal nature,” Spock explained, “and it would be foolish to waste a unique resource available to me, that is to say, someone who is uniquely suited to empathize with my current conundrum.” 

“A most sound argument, however, I remind you, Commander, that it is still my desire to interfere as little as possible with this Universe’s timeline. Too much has already been changed because of me, I don’t wish to be the further cause of disruption.”

Spock nods. “I respect your decision, Ambassador, however, you have made an exception before, perhaps I can persuade you to make another one.”

“It is hardly a rule when one continues to make exceptions to it.”

“It is my experience that a rule that doesn’t bend, will break,” Spock counters and he sees something resembling a smile on his older counterpart’s lips. The Ambassador nods.

“Agreed. What is it that you wish counsel on.”

Spock places his hands on his thighs, his fingers curling into his palms as he considers the best way to approach his query. “It is regarding the nature of my relationship with Captain Kirk. When you first urged me to join Starfleet, you mentioned that my… _our_ friendship would define us in ways I could not realize at the time.”

Ambassador Spock nods. “Yes. Has this not been the case?”

Spock thinks about it carefully. “No, your assessment has been correct. Over the past 896 standard days, I believe I have come to understand what it is that you meant to convey with that statement. Captain Kirk, Jim, has become a most valuable friend, one whose influence on myself has not gone unnoticed.”

“I am gratified to hear that is the case.”

“Am I correct in assuming that your advice had come from personal experience?”

The Ambassador nods again. “You assume correctly. Jim was and even to this day remains the most important relationship I have had in my life, one that continues to guide me even now. I can tell you without a doubt, I would not be the man I am today without him, and I know for certain that I am better for knowing him. Even now, he remains my dearest of friends.”

“You speak very… freely, about your feelings for him,” Spock says and watches as the Ambassador does smile then, small and private.

“It was not always so, for a very long time I was profoundly troubled by those feelings. For many years they were the source of anxiety and shame and I perceived, erroneously, that the existence of these emotions meant that I had failed as a Vulcan.”

“What changed?”

The Ambassador tilts his head to a side. “That, I’m afraid, is a confidence too far. I can not disclose to you the entire series of events. I was convinced that my affection towards Jim was an obstacle for my growth, when in fact it was the denial of these emotions that were stunting me.”

“When you say affection… what exactly do you mean?” Spock asks hesitantly and the Ambassador raises his brows.

“Does it really matter?”

Spock looks away. 

Ambassador Spock leans forward slightly. “Spock, what exactly is it that you wanted to speak to me about?” he asks gently and Spock gets the impression that he knows exactly what is going on, and if so then clearly there has to be some sort of significance in making him say it out loud. Spock looks down at his hands, still curled into fists on his lap, and thinks again about honesty.

“I-” Spock begins and takes a slow breath, “I believe that my regard for Jim has surpassed that of mere friendship, I- when I think of him, I... _yearn_ ,” Spock confesses quietly and wonders if this is honest enough if he has succeeded to put into words this monumental feeling that seems to be consuming him from the inside out.

“I see.” Spock looks up at the Ambassador’s words. The Ambassador is looking away, his face wearing an expression that Spock can not understand. Something that hovers, perhaps, between sadness and fondness, lost in thought and memory all at once

“And now I find myself uncertain on how to proceed,” Spock continues and the Ambassador seems to come back to himself.

“Well, the best way to find that out is by simply answering the question of: what is it that you want?”

Spock lets out a breath, his only sign of frustration. “That is precisely what seems to be my problem. I do not seem to know what I want.”

Ambassador Spock leans forward again. “Are you certain, Spock?”

Spock looks at him and feels his heartbeat hard against his side. The ambassador sat back again, his eyes going unfocused.

“I was much older than you are now when I found myself facing a similar dilemma as you are now. I told you that I was troubled by my emotions, the abundance of them, the persistence of them. I was more than just troubled, I was utterly distraught, enough that I renounced my position at Starfleet and had returned to Vulcan with the intention to complete the ritual of Kohlinar.”

Spock blinked, surprised. “You were going to purge all your emotions?”

“Yes. A laudable goal, for some, if done for the right reasons, which was not the case for me. You see,” the Ambassador continues and this he focuses intensely on Spock, “fear is a powerful instinct, often a very useful one, but one that should never be the main motivator of our actions because it will inevitably lead us towards regret.”

Spock thinks about his desires, his wants, thinks about honesty. “What if the risk is too high?”

“Spock,” the Ambassador says and Spock looks up at him, “even the smallest of odds hold within them the inherent possibility of success.”

Spock looks at him and realizes he is right of course. 1 in a million did not mean automatic failure, there was still always the one. And so it really wasn’t about wondering everything he could lose, but rather, everything that he could _gain_ and that alone was an entirely different perspective. 

“I understand,” Spock agrees after a moment, and the Ambassador nods.

“Us Vulcans, we often turn towards logic and science to find the answers to the questions that we face in our lives. However, it is my experience that these kinds of decisions are best served by using a more intuitive approach.”

“So your advice is to ‘do what feels right’?” Spock asks, raising a brow and the Ambassador smiles.

“What sound advice that is indeed.”

Spock inclines his head slightly. “Thank you, Ambassador, your perspective has been most helpful.”

“I will then leave you with just one more thing,” Ambassador Spock says, his voice serious, almost urgent. “Life is fleeting and so terribly fragile. A lifetime is nothing but the blink of an eye, nothing but a single exhale of breath and if there is one regret I have, then it is to have allowed fear to rob me of so much of my time with him. Please, Spock, don’t take the time you have with him for granted, I can assure it, will never be enough,” he adds and perhaps it is because they in a way, the one and the same person, Spock feels his heartache across space and time itself.

“Do you miss him?” Spock asks impulsively and the Ambassador gives him a small, sad smile.

“Yes,” he simply says and Spock knows, deep within his own bones, that someday he too will feel the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The future in an alternate universe counts as historical era, right?


	22. Lightning Strike

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PROMPT DAY 22: lyric

****

48 hours before first contact

Spock is sitting at his desk. His face is reflected back at him from the darkened screen of his computer station where he had just ended his conversation with his other self. The reflection were just seconds ago was the face of his future self draws an unsettling parallel. They are not the same, he knows this, and yet it has become apparent that in the most profound ways, they are not that different at all. And it’s this thought that makes him consider the Ambassador’s words carefully because even though their universes are so vastly different, they both seemed to have found their way towards Jim. Spock thinks about mathematical probabilities, thinks about the complex physics that govern the universe, and is abruptly reminded of the conversation he’d once had, on a boat in the middle of a river, with a man who had the head of a dog.

_"The laws of your Universe are based on your ability to perceive reality through your limited senses”_

Could it be possible to determine destiny through math? Was fate preordained after all? Were there really no such things as coincidences in the universe? Was it by some sort of cosmic design that his path would unerringly cross with that of James Tiberius Kirk?

Was he meant to fall in love with him in all of them?

****

42 hours before first contact

The door chimes and rouses Spock out of meditation. It is early into alpha shift and before either, he or the Captain are expected on the bridge and as Spock rises from his meditation mat he knows without a doubt that it is Jim who is on the other side of the door.

Spock smooths down his robes and opens the door. Jim is standing there still in his Uniform, his hair sticking out in a way that shows he’s been running his hands through it. He has not yet gone to rest, even though he was meant to be off duty by gamma shift.

“I’m sorry to bother you so late but there is something I need to discuss with you urgently,” Jim says and Spock steps aside. Spock watches Jim as he steps into the room. It is unusual for him to interrupt Spock during his allotted rest time, not without calling, certainly not without cause, and he would most definitely not go to his room unannounced. 

“What can I help you with, Captain?” Spock asks formally. He knows this is not a social visit but he also calculates that the captain has been awake for approximately 22 hours without rest. He walks to the replicator to program tea for both of them. Jim doesn’t like it, prefers coffee over it any time, but he will indulge Spock if he drinks some himself. Jim labors under the misconception that it would be rude to decline and Spock has not disabused him of that notion.

“I just got orders from Starfleet Command,” Jim says as he accepts the tea. “I sent them to you just before I came here.”

Spock sits down at his terminal to read the memo. Jim blows on his tea and manages to burn his tongue regardless and Spock files it away as one of the behaviors he finds endearing. He scans the memo quickly. 

“It seems captain, they want the Enterprise to do first contact with Nocteria Mot, a first step towards establishing commercial relations,” Spock summarizes. Jim leans back against his desk next to him. They are close - the quarters too small to allow much movement - and Spock can feel his body heat against his skin. 

“Nocteria Mot reached out to the Federation for the first time approximately 30 standard days ago. Before that initial contact, their existence had been unknown to the Federation and to several of the other civilizations in the quadrant.”

“According to this data, they have been warp-capable for quite some time,” Spock ads and he begins to gain an inkling to Jim’s concern. 

“Funny how they have been able to travel through space and yet nobody knows them or has heard them. What were they doing with their warp ships then? If it’s not trading or exploration?” Jim wonders and looks at Spock. It’s a rhetorical question, there is no logical answer to it. A civilization capable of warp does not stay within their own solar system. It reaches out, explores, trades, goes to war. 

“What is your theory?” Spock asks gently and Jim steps away frustrated, raking his hand through his hair and begins to pace the room with his cup of tea still in his hand. 

“The past four missions from Starfleet Command have been disastrous and it’s always been, quite frankly, because of shitty intel. That whole thing with the boar, that shouldn’t have happened. That whole thing on Careena and the rebels with who had enough protomatter to blast the entire solar system. We didn’t know any of those things until we got there and God, the only reason we made it through was luck and because we are damned good at what we do.” Jim takes a sip of his tea and makes a face as if he’d forgotten what he had in his hands. 

“So your concern is that this will also be riddled with faulty intelligence?” Spock asks and Jim places the cup on his desk.

“When does a coincidence stop being a coincidence?” Jim asks and this time Spock understands. He carefully rises from his desk.

“You don’t believe that the faulty intelligence we have been receiving is due to negligence?”

“I believe that accidents don’t follow a pattern,” Jim says and looks at him and Spock realizes that he is looking for confirmation. This is not the captain telling his commander about a fact, this is Jim testing out a hypothesis with Spock, this is Jim looking at Spock and asking: I’m not mad, am I?

Spock clasps his hands behind his back and paces the small room and thinks it through. 

“If it is not negligence, or at the very least, not just negligence, if there is intent behind it, the main question is why? Why would Starfleet try to sabotage the Enterprise?”

“Maybe it’s not the Enterprise, maybe it’s just me.”

Spock tilts his head to a side. “It seems an extraordinarily complicated way to achieve this. What would their reason be to sabotage you?”

“They could want to get rid of an augmented human, there are plenty of people at Starfleet who considered me unfit for duty.”

“You passed all the tests,” Spock says easily and doesn’t understand why this answer brings a smile to Jim’s face. “Even then, it would have been easier to dispose of you on Earth. If this is Starfleet they could have taken care of you while you were unconscious at Starfleet Medical.”

“Even with you and Bones paying vigil?” Jim asks with a wry smile and Spock is relieved to see him starting to lose the tense edge he’d walked in with. “Let’s pretend then that this is intentional then, they want me to fail spectacularly and publicly. Argue a case that I was never meant to be fit for duty.”

Spock picks up his tea. “That hypothesis is consistent with providing faulty intel, just enough to pass scrutiny but not enough for a guaranteed success,” Spock agrees after a moment. “However, it also implies that they are not terribly interested in succeeding in their own goal. If your hypothesis is correct, it would imply that several high ranking officials are involved.”

“And they wouldn’t risk it if it wasn’t worth it,” Jim finishes his thoughts and picks up his tea again, sipping it absentminded enough to not grimace about it. 

“If you were a big wig, what would you want?” Jim asks Spock.

“Hard to elucidate, Captain, I have never been skilled in empathizing with others, but it is my experience that there is a very simple, very common truth, one that is found in every civilization.”

“Which is?”

Spock looks at Jim. “That those in power will unequivocally seek to retain it, no matter the cost.”

“How?”

“Did you notice where the coordinates of Nocteria Mot lead to?” Jim shakes his head and Spock keys them into his station. Jim steps close to look over his shoulder at his computer screen and then freezes.

“That’s the neutral zone,” Jim says and Spock nods. 

“I believe Nocteria Mot lies just at the very edge of contested space.”

Jim stares at him for a moment and Spock can see him move the pieces in his head, like an elaborate, dangerous, game of chess. “You think they want to finish what Admiral Marcus started.”

“That is a very large leap of logic, captain.”

“It is, but that’s what you meant. And it would make sense, use going starting an incident with whoever we encounter in neutral space, Romulans, Klingons, just after a series of disastrous missions and it’s easy to pin to fallout on me. My record will surely help them out,” Jim adds bitterly but Spock's mind has followed through with the idea entirely and his hypothesis is something much worse.

“Missions out of which you have emerged victorious,” Spock murmurs and Jim frowns.

“What do you mean?” Jim asks confused.

“Every mission we have been to so far has been successful. We have yet to fail a single objective, even if we’ve had to adapt quite a bit. And you have been publicly lauded for those accomplishments. Jim, this isn’t about setting you up as a scapegoat,” Spocks says and his voice goes deep with a sensation too dark to be called anger, “it’s about setting you up as a martyr.”

They stand there looking at each other, the weight of Spock’s words hangs in the air between them.

“Spock,” Jim asks after a moment. “Whatever happened to Section 31.”

Spock narrows his eyes. “It was disbanded,” he says trailing off and Jim gives him a dark look, his eyes sharp in the dim lights of his quarters.

“How would we know, Spock?” He asks and Spock is brutally aware of what Jim is implying.

There is a spy within them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be so much longer but alas shit kept happening today and I couldn't get to writing until 11pm so, I ill make chapter 23 be part of this thing that I'm setting up here. Unofruntalely the lyrics won't make that much sense until you read tomorrow's entry. Oops. But it's late, and I'm tired and I have a meeting at 7am because the universe hates me.


	23. Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PROMPT DAY 23: friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I regret a 100% adding plot to this thing omg. So, the plot will spread into three chapters because it's midnight and I've been writing for 4 hours straight and I'm tired ya'll.
> 
> Good news I have most of tomorrow's chapter done. Like 90% of it. Bad news is I still need to write the bit the bridges this chapter with the next, which I had intended to include but honestly. Brain, mush. Sorry, orz.

“What will you do?” Spock had asked and Jim, after a moment of silence had grinned.

“Why, I think I’ll have a birthday party.”

****

40 hours before first contact

Spock sips his tea leisurely, looking at his pad and waiting for the ship time to be 0800. Just as the numbers change on his display, the door opens and Lieutenant Scott walks in, yawning and jittery in a strange combination of excitement and exhaustion that Spock has only ever seen in Lieutenant Scott. Finishing his tea he walks to the replicator to dispose of his cup and discreetly stands next to Scottie.

“Lieutenant Scott,” Spock greets.

“Commander, bright’en early ey?” Scottie answers, ordering what Spock thinks is a staggering amount of food. 

“Indeed,” Spock agrees. “I have read your proposal for the warp engine upgrades, your suggestions are most… intriguing,” Spock continues.

“Ah bit unconventional but I am certain that we would improve efficiency by at least 30%,” Scott says animated and Spock nods.

“37.3% according to my calculations.”

“Well, there you go.”

“How long would it take for you to do the upgrades?”

“Oh it's a quick fix, maybe a couple of hours.” 

“Are you sure? I would estimate at least ten hours for the entire procedure,” Spock says and Scottie waves his hand.

“It’s not that hard, it’s mostly a reconfiguration of the protocols and-”

“Mr. Scott,” Spock interrupted firmly and then repeated, “the procedure will take ten hours, agreed?”

And Scottie finally seems to get it. “Ah yes, the upgrades will take ten hours,” he says and Spock nods.

“And during the procedure, we won't be able to move faster than warp 2, correct?” Spock asks and Scottie opens his mouth, clearly ready to refute it since it, in fact, was not true, but then reconsiders.

“Of course.”

“Excellent,” Spock says with a nod, pleased. “How about we inform the captain of this? I believe he is in his ready room as we speak,” Spock ads in a voice that brokers no argument. Scottie looks at his tray, beans, and sausage and egg substitute steaming delightfully in front of him. And with a sigh returns the tray to the replicator where it vanishes.

“Of course Commander.”

“Excellent. Also, did you hear about the Captain’s surprise birthday party for today at 1900 ship time?”

****

39 hours before first contact

Jim sends a message to Starfleet accepting the mission request and detailing that they will change course to reach Nocteria Mot but that they were currently undergoing maintenance on their engines and couldn’t go faster than warp 2. They would arrive in approximately 50 hours. 

Starfleet agrees.

Jim smiles and sends a request to his Commander, asking him if he were kind enough to prepare a roster for the away team for Noctera Mot.

And then he calls for Lieutenant Sulu.

"You wanted to speak to me, Captain?" Sulu asks as the door closes behind him and Jim gestures him to a chair.

"Yes, I had some questions about the roundabouts, I'm told you are familiar with their schematics?"

****

37 hours before first contact

“Lieutenant, I trust you have been briefed on Nocteria Mot,” Spock asks Uhura who is sitting at her station and she nods.

“Yes, I have already read the report and am currently performing more research on them. There is not much available,” she answers.

“Yes, I am aware of that fact as well. Are we currently close enough for you to send a message to them?”

Uhura tilts her head. “We are but I was hoping to wait until I had more information.”

Spock nods. “I understand but in this case, I think it would be best for you to make an exception.”

She frowns but nods. “Alright.”

“Excellent, please initiate the first contact protocol, I will leave you a copy here on how to proceed,” Spock says and hands her his pad. She opens her mouth to say that she knew the protocol by heart but her eyes land on the text on the bed. It’s one single line.

_TRACE THE SIGNAL_

She looks up and nods.

“Of course commander, I will do so right now,” she replies and turns back to her station, carefully locking the pad so the screen turns black.

****

35 hours before first contact

“Chekov!” Jim greets the young Lieutenant as he joins him on the turbolift.

“Keptin, ah, it is your birthday today, yes?”

“Ah, yeah, there is a surprise party I’m not supposed to know about happening sometime today, right?”

“Captain, I do not know about this party,” Chekov says and Jim thinks he needs to teach the kid how to lie, he is atrocious at it.

“My mistake then,” Jim says with a wink. “Actually I wanted to talk to you about your Ph.D. thesis. Do you have time?”

Chekov smiles and he looks approximately twelve years old. “Yes keptin, I have time.”

“Excellent, so refresh my memory. About the Tachyons, what’s their deal?” Jim asks as they walk into one of the science labs and Chekov proceeds to explain physics. 

****

29 hours before first contact

As expected, word of Captain’s Kirk’s “surprise birthday party” quickly spread around the Enterprise and so it wasn’t hard to get an excitable crew motivated enough to turn what was meant to be a small, private affair, into a borderline out of control bash. A perfect distraction.

Spock carefully mingles in the crowded mess hall, keeping an eye on the captain, waiting for his signal. When it comes a few minutes later - a hand gesture meant to look carefree - Spock excuses himself and searches out Nyota. He finds her sitting near the door talking to Sulu, a most fortunate coincidence.

“Lieutenant Uhura, I apologize for interrupting but I require your assistance, could you please accompany me for a moment?”

Nyota blinked but nodded. “Sure, no problem.”

Spock nods. “Lieutenant Sulu, I believe Dr. McCoy was looking for you, something regarding your physical from today?”

Sulu sighs. “Aw man, I knew that rash was something weird.”

Spock blinks. “I suggest you seek him out immediately then. I believe he has returned to sickbay already,” Spock adds and Sulu finishes his drink.

“Ah jeez, might as well get it over with,” Sulu says and leaves, Spock and Uhurua follow him and then Spock purposely takes the opposite path. 

“What do you need my help with?” Uhura asks as they reach the turbolift.

“It is about the Xindi report,” Spock says and Uhura frowns.

“Did they have more revisions to it?” She asks and Spock calls for deck 5.

“Some minor details but I am certain you will be able to assist me with them,” Spock adds and then gets off the turbolift. 

“I swear they have been so nitpicky about it, it’s really starting to get annoying. We have resubmitted that report at least 4 times now,” Uhura sighs and then looks around. “Where are we going?” she asks when she realizes they are nowhere near either of their quarters or the command areas.

“Just a small detour,” Spock says and then steps into sickbay. It’s deserted and Spock walks straight to the office in the back and Uhura blinks surprised when she sees not only Dr. McCoy there, but Sulu, Chekov, Scotty, and the Captain as well.

“What is happening?” Uhura asks as Spock closes the door behind her.

“Is it clear?” Spock asks and Jim nods.

“It’s clear,” Jim confirms and looks at Scotty who nods.

“Aye commander, there are no listening devices in the office,# he then stands and runs a scanner over Uhura and Spock, “nor on you two. We are incognito,” Scotty says. Uhura turns to Spock.

“This is not about the Xindi report, is it?” she asks drily.

“There are reviews to it actually, but it is not the reason we are here,” Spock says and Jim walks towards a filing cabinet and opens the last drawer to take out a bottle of scotch, McCoy muttering annoyed in the background.

“Officially, you are all here to celebrate your esteemed captain’s birthday,” Spock says as Jim fishes out glasses and proceeds to pour. 

“And unofficially?” McCoy asks, accepting a glass from Jim.

“Unofficially you are here to discuss the possibility of Section 31 staging a second coup,” Jim says and everyone in the room freezes.

****

26 hours before first contact

Spock goes to the bathroom and knocks on the other door and waits until Jim opens it from the other side.

“Hey Spock,” Jim greets and goes back to his desk. It is clear he has been working and Spock feels irrationally upset by this. He has been working without a break for almost 70 hours. Augmented human or not, he was running himself to the ground and it infuriated him that Starfleet, that the Federation had placed Jim in this position. There was nothing he could do against them right now, but there was something he could do regarding Jim.

He steps close to Jim and then promptly turns off the display. Jim blinks for a moment, seemingly unable to process what had just happened, and then turns to Spock.

“Oi,” he says, low, dangerous and Spock places a hand on his arm, slow and gentle.

“Jim,” Spock says, “you must rest.”

“Conspiracy aside, there are things I need to see to, you know? Duty rosters and budget and that thing we picked up from that other planet,” Jim argues but it’s apparent he has little desire to win the argument. When Spock pulls him up, Jim follows willingly. 

“All that can wait until the next shift. You will have to be at your best for the next 25 hours, and you will not be able to do that if you have exhausted yourself before that,” Spock continues maneuvering Jim to the bed. Jim sits down and then flops back. Spock bends down to unzip his boots. 

“You know, I’ve been so busy about this whole thing that I haven’t even had the time to feel angry about it,” Jim murmurs, clearly already drifting asleep. Spock carefully slides off one boot and then the next. He feels a strange pang in his side as he tidily sets aside the boots, as he rises and lifts Jim’s legs to motivate him to lay down properly.

“There will be time for that later as well, Captain,” Spock assures.

“You can’t call me captain when you are tucking me into bed, that’s just weird,” Jim slurs and again Spock is overcome by fondness. He reaches out, strokes Jim’s hair gently confident in the fact that his captain is already snoring and that the gesture will remain one of Spock’s secrets. He sits down next to Jim, unable to quite leave his side for just a moment longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note to self: a daily challenge is a terrible time to try and write a complex conspiracy plot Jesus christ I regret everything. Well then, have a plot that lasted for two chapters asjdlaksjdlakjsd I am exhausted.


	24. Gravity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PROMPT DAY 24: gravity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll just stop making promises lol.

**16 HOURS BEFORE FIRST CONTACT**

  


“Captain, you look well-rested,” Spock greets him on the bridge and Jim gives him a steely look. 

“Imagine my surprise when I noticed my alarm didn’t go off and that I had been moved to alpha shift,” Jim answers and lifts his brows.

“How very unusual, we should let programming know that there seems to be an issue,” Spock replies dry like the Vulcan desert, and Jim waves his hand. 

“Uhu. Right then, report.”

“Lieutenant Uhura has established contact with the Nocterans,” Spock starts and then moves to a side to allow Uhura to take the floor.

“Aye captain. We are working on fine-tuning a schedule. They seem to have all sorts of protocols for these kinds of meetings, so it is safe to assume that we are not the first civilization they make contact with,” she hands him a pad which he looks over dutifully. After a moment his brows raise.

“That’s a lot of rules.”

Uhura nods. “It is. We have yet to reach an agreement on some points. Security detail for one.”

“Keep me posted, we are getting close. I will want you on gamma shift for when we reach the planet so make sure you rest at some point in between.”

“I have already arranged my schedule with Commander Spock.” 

“Good. Also, why is my ship going at Warp 2 still?” Jim asks bewildered and Spock steps in again.

“Lieutenant Scott is fine-tuning his upgrades but they should be done soon.”

As if summoned, Scotty hails the captain.

“Mr. Scott, what happened to the upgrade taking ten hours?”

“I was just about to tell you, it’s all clear, she is ready to go full speed.”

“Well great, Mr. Chekov, make that happen please.”

“Ah- also captain,” Scotty continues, “there is a, let's say, slight hiccup with the transporters at the moment.”

Jim rubs his forehead. “What do you mean slight hiccup?”

“Wee problem really, they seem to function only intermittently at the moment.”

Jim looks at Spock who raises a brow. “That doesn’t seem like a ‘wee’ problem, Mr. Spock.”

“Well, it’s ‘wee’ because I know the solution, I just needed to get the engines running first. But I will go work on the transporters right now!”

“Keep me posted, the Nocterans have given us incredibly precise transporting coordinates, I don’t want to create an intergalactic incident by accidentally appearing in somebody’s bed chambers.”

“Yes captain, that would be ah- not good, no. Right. I’ll see that the transporters get fixed.”

“Thank you, Mr. Scott.”

Jim snaps his communicator shut and looks at Spock. “You knew about the transporters?”

Spock nods. “That was the second point on my list, Mr. Scott just happened to get ahead of me. I have dispatched Mr. Sulu to check on the runabouts, to prepare for the eventuality that we might not be able to beam down to the surface.

“Great,” Jim mutters, “why does everything always start to go wrong when we have one of these missions going on.”

“A question for the ages,” Spock answers and Jim snorts.

“Alright, what else.”

“Admiral Paris-”

“Oh for crying out loud.”

“-sent the Xindi Report back with additional edits.”

“You know what, let's just call her directly instead of playing this ridiculous tag game over subspace. Lieutenant Uhura, you have the con,” Jim says as he stands up and leaves the bridge with Spock in tow. Jim continues to rant about bureaucracy all the way to the ready room and then locks the door behind him.

“First of all,” Jim says, stepping close and pointing a finger at Spock, “that thing you did with my alarm? Not cool.”

“I apologize, Captain,” Spock says formally, clasping his hands behind his back. He does not promise not to repeat it because it is clear by the captain's lively behavior that the rest did him good.

“We’ll revisit this point but we have bigger fish to fry,” Jim sighs and then rouses himself and Spock can see him shifting into his captain persona once more as if layering on clothes.

“Alright, we’ll look at the Xindi report later, more importantly, what else have you to tell me?” Jim asks, sitting down at his desk.

“Everything is going according to schedule. Sulu’s task is quite lengthy so I suggest you consider having someone else for gamma shift.”

Jim taps his fingers against his desk.

“Pick some candidates but only if Sulu says he can’t do it,” Jim agrees eventually and Spock nods. “Right, stick around, let's have a chat with Admiral Paris,” Jim says with a grin and Spock takes position standing across from Jim’s desk, hands clasped behind his back.

**12 HOURS BEFORE FIRST CONTACT**

  


“Captain,” Uhura says, handing Jim another pad. “We have finally agreed on a protocol with Nocteria Mot. Please review it but I believe you will be satisfied with the compromise.”

Jim scans the pad and raises his brow. “One unarmed security detail allowed?” he reads out loud and Uhura clears her throat.

“I said satisfied, not happy.”

Jim’s lips quirk to a side. “Alright, fair enough. At least you got me out of the white dress uniform,” he says.

“That’s just for the reception later,” she says and then promptly flees back to her desk before the captain lets her know his opinion about that. 

**7 HOURS BEFORE FIRST CONTACT**

  


Jim walks into Spock’s room through their joined bathrooms and Spock refuses to feel caught. He rises from his desk and clasps his hands behind his back.

“Captain,” he says and Jim crosses his arms as he leans against the bulkhead. 

“I thought you were resting,” Jim says drily.

“I am still planning on doing so,” Spock answers and Jim gives him an utterly unimpressed look.

“You know, that whole speech you gave me yesterday applies to you too. You have been running on fumes too.”

“As a Vulcan I am capable of functioning on far much less sleep than humans.”

“Yeah, but I don’t want you to just be functioning,” Jim replies and then changes tactics entirely and when he simply reaches out to rest his hand on Spock's forearm, Spock knows he will relent. “I need you at your absolute best. If we are right, if we are lucky, everything will work out smoothly, if not…” Jim trails off and Spock takes a deep breath.

“I will rest, Jim,” he promises and Jim gives him a serious look.

“Properly,” he asks and Jim nods.

“Properly.”

**2 HOURS BEFORE FIRST CONTACT**

  


“Captain, ah- wee problem. The transporters have shut down entirely. Their frequency is completely scrambled. Good news is! I know how to fix them. Bad news is it will take, ah- some time.”

Jim closes the communicator and then turns to look at Spock.

“Tell Mr. Tells to get ready to pilot a shuttle. Lieutenant Uhura-”

“Aye captain,” Uhura says, already swiveling around and reaching out to the Nocterans. Their carefully crafted protocol was about to drastically change again.

**1 HOUR BEFORE FIRST CONTACT**

  


“Captain, we are in position,” Sulu announces and Jim can see the planet in the viewscreen. Noctera Mot looks similar to earth, a blue planet with a moon, they will remain in orbit while the landing party travels to the surface.

“Excellent, Mr. Sulu,” Jim says and as if summoned, Spock walks onto the bridge. Jim turns to him and smiles.

“Commander, just in time.”

“Captain,” Spock greets and then stands in something closer to parade rest than what he usually adopts. Jim is inclined to say ‘at ease’, but opts to just quirk his brows at him.

“Well then, let’s get this show on the road,” Jim says and Spock thinks he can hear the challenge in that voice.

**40 MINUTES BEFORE FIRST CONTACT**

  


Captain, I’m in shuttle bay 1, USS Galileo is ready for takeoff as soon as you give the clear. Lieutenant Hendorff is standing by.”

“Thank you Mr. Tells,” Jim answers and Uhura stands up.

“Captain, I will make my way to the shuttle bay and will meet you there. Our ETD is in approximately 20 minutes.”

“I’ll see you then, Lieutenant,” Jim answers and then turns to Sulu. Mr. Sulu, any unusual readings we should worry about?”

“None captain, all readings are normal. Your coordinates are in the middle of the biggest area of life signs, indicating you will be landing right in the center of Noctera’s biggest settlement.”

“Very convenient,” Jim answers and shares a look with Spock. Spock returns to his own station and sends Scotty a message. They are close to countdown. 

**25 MINUTES BEFORE FIRST CONTACT**

  


“Alright then, I’ll head off. Commander, you have the con. We will keep a channel open until we land just to make sure we don’t run into any strange anomalies while we are making our way there,” Jim says as he stands up and smoothes down his shirt. 

“Keep an eye on my ship, Commander,” Jim says to his Commander and Spock nods.

“Aye, Captain,” he answers and it’s a vow.

**20 MINUTES BEFORE FIRST CONTACT**

  


“This is the USS Galileo. Taking off now.” 

“Copy, Galileo. Standing by,” Spock replies and watches the screen. The shuttlecraft clears the shuttle bay and appears on their screen only a few minutes later.  
Spock is monitoring their frequency carefully and then- it’s just a blip, a second, but there is a jump in the signal, a millisecond of interference. Spock leans forward in his seat.

“Captain, can you read-” he never gets to finish the sentence, there is no need.

The shuttlecraft explodes right in front of them.


	25. Paris

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PROMPT DAY 25: genderbent*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I flat out cheated. I needed to finish this plot that I came up with in the last minute and which has expanded over four chapters now. How? Why? I'm sorry. This fun challenge turned into conspiracy without my consent. I won't pretend that I fulfill the challenge today, but I wanted to at the very least give a nod to it, by making Admiral Paris a woman. I hope that the resolution of this drama however is compensation enough for me cheating. orz.

“Red alert shields up” Spock orders and it starts sounding even before he finishes talking. “Mr. Chekov-”

“There was a Tachyon spike on the moon,” Chekov confirms, fingers running over commands even as Sulu moves the ship around, “coordinates are on target lock.”

“Fire,” Spock orders and the ship moves, like a dream, moves in perfect sync with Spock’s mind itself and watches with something dark boiling in his blood as phasers barrage on a seemingly empty spot on the moon, but the shots are bouncing off against an invisible surface. Seconds later there is a brief shimmer and a ship is decloaked.

A Romulan Warbird. It turns, ready to attack.

“Mr. Sulu, photon torpedo,” Spock says as he stands up and walks towards Uhura’s station and takes out his communicator. “Mr. Scott, do we have what we need?” he asks as his hands fly over the controls checking the transmission.

“Aye Commander,” Scotty answers, and Spock turns around, snapping his communicator shut.

“Mr. Sulu, retreat, max warp,” Spock orders even as he watches the photon torpedo hit. He checks the HUD, sees that the warbird’s shields are destroyed. They were not prepared for an attack. Spock knows they could stay and win this fight and there is something primal that makes him want to do so, something ancient that wants to unleash furiously at his enemy. And yet logic overrules it all. They leave at max warp speed and Spock can see on the HUD that the Romulan ship turns around and leaves. Nobody follows them.

The door behind him slides open and Spock turns around, clasps his hands behind his back, and says: “Captain on the bridge.”

Jim’s smile is incandescent.

****

  


**29 HOURS BEFORE**

“Unofficially you are here to discuss the possibility of Section 31 staging a second coup,” Jim says and everyone in the room freezes.  


“Why the hell are we doing this in my office?” Bones sputters out angrily.

“The Chief Medical’s Office is by default a secure location to protect doctor-patient privacy and it is the second most secure place after the captain’s quarters and ready room. Because it is the worst kept secret on the Enterprise that you religiously celebrate the captain’s birthday with alcohol. We have simply… expanded on the people allowed.”

“Anyone looking in will see a group of friends sitting casually talking and drinking,” Jim explains leaning against the filing cabinet casually, grinning as if spinning one his stories, the image of a carefree young man celebrating. 

Spock positions himself in front of him, to keep both him and the door in view, and remains vigil while the captain quickly recounts the conversation they’d had a few hours ago in Spocks’ rooms. After he finishes, a heavy silence settles in the air. Spock shifts forward.

“We have no evidence for any of this, it is at this point, mere conjecture,” Spock says.  
“So what do we do?” Dr. McCoy asks.

“We test the theory,” Jim says and smiles, slow and deliberate, a dare and a taunt all at once, and Spock is reminded of the last time he’d seen that look on his captain face, in the training room while his back hit the mat and Jim had pinned him in more ways than one.

“We don’t have enough information to extrapolate exactly what we will be facing once we get to Noctera Mot,” Spock begins, “but there is a high probability that they will continue using their current modus operandi.”

“We have determined three most likely scenarios: either we will get ambushed in space, or we will get ambushed on the surface or both.” Spock turns to Uhura. “What did your results show when you traced the signal.”

“It’s not coming from the surface of the planet, it’s coming from one of their moons,” Uhura says and licks her lips. “It doesn’t necessarily mean anything however, it is quite possible that their relay system is on the moon. Unusual, but not unheard of. I am however unable to trace the signal beyond that point.”

Jim nods. “Agreed but it is conclusive with Mr. Sulu’s report.”

Sulu shifts forward. “I used the new long-range sensor we developed with Scotty after the whole pig fiasco. There are life signs on the planet but no energy sources,” Sulu shifts to Uhura, “neither were there any on the moon.” 

Jim smirks. “No energy source from a warp-capable planet, no, I don’t think so.”

“Well, there has to be something there. I did not make a mistake,” Uhura says. “Even a relay puts out an energy source, even a tiny one,” she argues and Jim nods.

“Unless it’s cloaked,” he says.

“Who would cloak a relay?” McCoy asks.

“Not a relay, Bones, a ship,” Jim says and downs his drink. “This close to the neutral zone? Romulans or Klingons. They both have cloaking capabilities.”

“Keptin, is this why you asked for my thesis?” Chekov speaks up and Jim nods. 

“What thesis?” Sulu asks and Chekov sits up straight.

“During the attack with Nero and as well as with Khan, I noticed a Tachyon spike in both cases when the ships used their cloaking devices. I have hypothesized that the use of the devices causes these spikes.”

Jim nods. “Now you will have a once in a lifetime to prove your hypothesis.”

Chekov beams and Dr. McCoy makes a face. “Are you telling me we are going to face off a cloaked warship based off on a theory?”

“The science is sound, Doctor,” Spock says and McCoy gives him a look. “Lieutenant Chekov, you are on alpha shift, configure your station in between shifts to easily read the tachyon spike.”

“Aye, Commander. However we will only be able to read the spike when they activate or deactivate Keptin, the trace does not remain long in space. If there are ships cloaked beforehand, we won’t be able to know if they have been there for a long time.”

Jim nods. “Exactly, we will force their hand. Scotty, you will announce that the transporters are malfunctioning and by the time we get to the planet, they will be broken down. We will then take a runabout to go to the planet. It will provide a golden opportunity for an attack and if they take it, they will have to decloak.”

“You are not planning on actually being on the ship, are you?” Bones asks scandalized.

“Of course not, but to their sensors, it will appear as such. We will man the runabout remotely. We will have only moments, Mr. Sulu, you will have to be ready to turn the ship around so we can flee.”

Sulu blinks. “We are not going to attack, captain?”

Jim shakes his head. “We don’t actually know how many ships we will encounter out there. It can be one, it can be more. I have no doubt that the Enterprise can handle one or two warbirds, but as it stands, it’s too risky.”

“Our purpose of this is not to engage in combat,” Spock adds, “but rather to force the hand of either Starfleet or Section 31. We will record the incident and send out a live transmission through subspace directly to Starfleet. If we are ambushed and the runabout is destroyed, we will have on record what can only be construed as a trap. It will be hard to argue that this was convenient in any shape, way, or form.”

“Our second objective is to shake out the spy if there is one on board,” Jim adds.

“And how will you do that last one?” Bones asks.

“They will jump ship,” Jim answers. “They won’t stick around to see whether or not the Enterprise will stick around.”

“And with the teleport disabled they’ll have to risk a runabout.”

“Oh, that’s why you asked me if I knew how to disable them,” Sulu says and Jim nods.

“You don’t have a lot of time to do that and I can’t offer you anybody to help you with this task,” Jim adds apologetically. Sulu shakes his head.

“I can do it, I already started.”

“Good. I will say it anyway even though I know it doesn’t need to be said. You are the only ones who know about this operation. It is not to be discussed outside of this room, we do not know if or how many listening devices are on board, and until Scotty can give me a shipwide clearance we will only speak in the spaces which have been cleared.”

“Ah, the ready room, the captain’s and the commander's quarters, and this office. And well engineering as well, I ah-checked captain.”

“Good. We will go through the ship's code with a fine comb as well, Spock Uhura and I, but that will have to wait, we don’t have enough time right now.”

“I can start running a background systems diagnostics, it won’t show up on any monitoring system,” Uhura assured the captain. 

“Alright do it then. We need to get a headstart on that anyway. Does anybody have any questions?” Jim asks and McCoy lifts his hand.

“Me. Why the hell am I in this meeting in the first place? I have no role in this plan of yours.”

Jim blinks genuinely surprised. “Uh. Well. We needed your office,” he says lamely, “to, you know, not arouse suspicion, birthday bash, all that jazz, remember?”

“I’m your red herring in this scenario?” Bones asks outraged, swinging his glass around and Jim lifts his hand placatingly. 

“I do not understand,” Spock interrupts, “why would this make you a fish?” he asks profoundly confused and proceeds to get even more confused at the uproarious laughter that ensues. An unintended result but a welcomed one. Jim embraces him briefly, overcome by mirth, and Spock feels warmth spreading from his core.

  


**2 HOURS AFTER FIRST CONTACT**

  
“Captain Kirk, this might be the first and last time I will say this, but it is a great pleasure to see you,” Admiral Paris says. She is a regal woman, human, terran, but with a stoicism that would make any Vulcan proud. Her white hair is tied up in a complex looking bun, both stylish and efficient and Spock has no doubt that were she engaged in combat, not one single hair would move.

“Ma’am, I feel exactly the same,” Jim answered. They are in one of the conference rooms, scanned and proofed by Scotty beforehand, with the rest of their small, trusted team sitting around the large table. 

“The live transmission worked perfectly, Captain, quite a feat considering the distance.”

“My Lieutenant is pleased to hear this,” Jim answers and Spock glances briefly at Uhura. Her facial expression is of neutral professionalism but her head is perhaps held just a bit higher.

“I have a copy recorded that I will attach to my report. This debriefing will also be recorded and annexed to it.”

“Understood.”

“Please, relay the situation in full.”

Jim proceeded to recount the entire series of events, from their early missions to the latest where the lack of accurate and robust intel had placed them in increasingly more dangerous situations. Detailing the injuries and casualties that his crew and ship had suffered and the little leeway they had steadily received in denying missions even when their crew had been burned out and run ragged. The methodical and concise way in which the captain relayed the mission painted an unerring picture of a pattern of mistakes that could not be construed other than intentional and with malicious intent. He leads her all the way to the conversation he’d had with Spock during gamma shift almost two standard days ago.

“I had been concerned with this pattern and with this mission I felt I had enough information to confide in my Commander who agreed with my suspicion,” Jim says and Spock is impressed by the dispassionate way he glosses over a moment that had been of intense emotional turmoil for Jim. He continues explaining the plan he’d crafted alongside the few selected members of his crew and the roles they had each played not only in successfully handling the deception, but ensuring the collection of evidence.

“We didn’t have much time to get this all ready, especially since we needed to give the appearance of standard procedures. Lieutenant Uhura was in charge of handling the communications and making sure that the Romulans wouldn’t realize that we were planning something. You will have her logs of all those transmissions as well. Lieutenant Chekov created a protocol to detect the Tachyon traces from his navigation console, while Mr. Scott was in charge of manning the sensors we had pointed towards Noctera Mot. We had a theory that the life signs on the planet were faked, and he had constructed a prototype for a new sensor after we had that incident on planet MF-5322.”

“Ah yes, the thing with the pig,” Admiral Paris says drily, and Spock has the dubious pleasure of watching the rest of the common crew attempting to keep a straight face. Jim clears his throat.

“Precisely. If we could determine that the Nocterans didn’t exist, that the life signs had been fabricated by someone else, in this case, the Romulans, then we could prove that the Romulans know exactly the frequency on which our standardized sensors worked. Information which is classified and which, as far as we know, has not been compromised.”

“Clearly, this is not the case.”

Jim nods. “Lieutenant Scott’s prototype is excellent and long-ranged. We already knew the planet was devoid of intelligent life signs before we even were within visual range. That data will also be annexed to the report. Lieutenant Scott also disabled the teleporter, making it known ship-wide that the only way off the ship was using the shuttle crafts. This is where Lieutenant. Sulu comes in,” Jim says and there is a bit of smirk playing around his lips. “He modified the Galileo to be piloted by remote control and linked it directly to the navigation control. Commander Spock had replicated our comlinks. Anyone tracing our communicator signal would see it come from the Galileo. Lieutenant Uhura rigged a communications relay so we could bounce our signal through the Galileo and Commander Spock, well, _hacked_ the life support system to give a reading of four people on it. We can not tell if the Romulans bothered with a scan or not.”

“It always pays to be thorough, Captain Kirk.”

Jim nods. “When it was time to depart, Lieutenant Uhura, Hendorff and I headed off to shuttle bay 1 which is our unmanned station and waited while we sent out our transmissions. Lieutenant Sulu took over control of the Galileo and piloted it remotely. Our channel remained open even while we waited. You are aware of what happened on the bridge.”

Admiral Paris nods. “Yes, I was connected directly to your feed and saw the Galileo get attacked.”

Jim turns towards Spock. 

“We had very little time to execute our plan. Lieutenant Chekov’s protocol was already running, we were expecting a cloaked ship, and even while the Romulan ship decloaked for less than a minute, it was enough for the sensors to pick up the Tachyon spike. We had direct coordinates and engaged fire. Our purpose was to force them to disengage their cloaking device to either counter attack or flee. As soon as they did we retreated. All of this footage was also recorded,” Spock adds and Admiral Paris nods.

“You had all right to attack, the Romulans had violated the treaty and had opened fire on Federation space,” she says and it’s Jim who answers her.

“Yes, but we were uncertain on how many other ships could be there. It’s a risk I am not willing to put my crew through.”

“Agreed,” she says and sits back. “That leaves us with the spy.”

“Lieutenant Junior Su’un,” Jim says and his expression grows somber. “Moments after the Galileo left, Su’un walked into the shuttle bay and headed off to one of the shuttles. Lieutenant Hendorff and I intercepted him. Even though we had stunned him, he was still able to activate his suicide device.” Jim trailed off for a moment, the only sign of what Spock knows hides the profound emotion behind it. “I’ve known Su’un since the Academy ma’am and he has been part of my crew since the beginning. I am unable to tell you when he joined Section 31, or how long he’s been a member of them. He didn’t speak a single word before he died. You will also have that recording for the report.”

“Are you sure he is a member of Section 31?” she asks and Jim looks over at Dr. McCoy who shifts forward to catch her attention.

“The members of Section 31 use a molar implant with a very specific cyanide compound as their preferred suicide device. Once you bite down on it death is almost instant. I was able to recover and analyze the remnants of the compound and it’s a match to. Lieutenant Su’un’s body has been placed in cryostasis. A more thorough toxicology report is being performed as we speak.” 

“Commander Spock has compiled all the data, the evidence, including the information that we had transmitted to you previously through the Xindi report,” Jim says and Spock watches as the rest of the command crew get thoroughly confused at that and Spock is satisfied to know that he’d been able to keep at least some secrets, “and you will have it as soon as I sign it.”

“Very well, I have no doubt that it will be a thorough and long read,” Admiral Paris replies and then lets out a slow breath. “Thank you all for your reports. Captain, if I could ask you to remain for one more moment.”

It’s a clear dismissal and everyone obeys by silently standing up and leaving the room. Spock is the last one remaining in the room, reluctant to leave. His eyes meet with Jim’s for a beat before he too steps out and closes the door behind him. He heads to the bridge. The best way he can serve his captain right now is by performing his duty and taking care of the Enterprise and all of the crewmembers within.


	26. Sky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PROMPT DAY 26: sky

Spock monitors the channel from conference room A on deck 4. He can not hear or see anything from his position at the Captain’s chair, but he can tell when the channel is open. It has been almost two hours since Admiral Paris had dismissed them and the Captain is still on the call with her. 

Spock watches the crew. Everyone who had participated in the mission remains on deck, even though Spock had dismissed them. They had already performed almost back to back shifts, but Spock understands the need to see something through to the end. So instead, Spock had shifted the duty roster for the next couple of days allowing each crewmember to have at least a 16-hour break before their next duty. It was a compromise of sorts.

It is eerily quiet, more than gamma shift usually is, Spock muses, but there is a shipwide sensation of unease after the events of Noctera Mot. The details had not been disclosed to the rest of the crew, but they had become aware that something more than what they were told took place at the edge of the Neutral Zone, and a Romulan attack is not something that anyone would ever take lightly. 

Spock knows however that confidence had only been shaken, not broken, and he has no doubt the Captain will successfully recover ship morale in no time. In the end, when the foundations are sound, everything built upon it is too.

The little dot on his padd signaling the open channel turns off. The Captain has finished talking to the Admiral. He looks at his padd and thinks about what he should do. Should he remain on the bridge and finish the shift? Should he contact the Captain? Under what reason? He has no professional reason to seek out his Captain during this time and yet…

He looks up and sees Nyota standing next to him, hands behind her back in a relaxed form of parade rest.

“You should go to him,” she said quietly, soft enough to be heard by him and Sulu and Chekov and nobody else, and he is endlessly grateful for her because she is once again doing what must be done for the sake of his own emotional wellbeing. The debt he owes, he knows, will take a lifetime to repay, and he vows to do better in the future. 

He stands and looks at her, hopes that some of the gratitude is transmitted through the inclination of his head, and by the soft smile she gives in return, he thinks he is successful.

“Lieutenant Uhura, you have the con. I will relieve you on alpha shift.”

“I believe Lieutenant Scott will be in charge of alpha shift,” she replies easily and he knows without looking that his carefully arranged duty roster has been deleted and replaced by something else entirely. And even though he remains fairly ignorant in many things, he has learned one very simple truth: Nyota is always right.

He nods in acknowledgment and leaves, heading towards the conference room and then deciding last minute to change direction entirely. He calls for deck five and then walks directly to the captain’s quarters. He rings and hears no response. He waits for a beat and tries to open the door. If the Captain isn’t in his quarters or wishes to be alone, his door will be locked.

The door slides open.

The captain is sitting at his desk, the remnants of their last chess game from almost a week ago remain on the table, they haven’t had the opportunity to finish the game yet. Spock steps inside and the captain looks up at him and Spock knows he was right in coming, because there, sitting in command gold, wearing his captain’s stripes, is not Captain Kirk, the capable leader of the flagship for the Federation. Sitting in that chair is not his captain, but just Jim, the boy who lost his father before he knew him, who grew up in the endless fields of Iowa, who put on the Starfleet uniform on a dare, just to see if perhaps there was more to him after all, and who in spite of all the success and awards, still didn’t quite know if he’d earned any of it after all.

Spock locks the door behind him, uses his command code to do so, and walks to Jim, holding his gaze the entire way. Spock stops in front of him and they regard each other, a million words go between them, a myriad of unspoken conversations transmitted through a gaze, accepted with a breath and when Spock reaches out with a hand to curl it behind Jim’s head, Jim follows easily.

Spock does not know how to comfort others, it is an emotion he is intensely unfamiliar with, and yet on this occasion, it comes easy to him. He stands still while Jim presses his face into his abdomen and Spock cards his fingers through Jim’s hair. A memory rises, unbidden, long forgotten, of him and his mother once, what seems another lifetime ago, when he was young and so filled with anger and fear. She too had comforted him then and he thinks that perhaps he knows more of comfort that he thinks he does.

There are no tears, no movements on behalf of Jim other than his steady even breath. Spock is reminded of his dream, of the endless ocean and the sky, of the water lapping at his boots, in a steady rhythm, ebb turning into flow and back again. He feels like he is there again, standing on that beach, with the ocean just on the edge of him, touching and then not. 

He feels a tingle starting at the tips of his fingers and before he can decide to do anything about that, Jim moves away. Spock’s fingers trail along his cheek, his jaw until he pulls back his arm entirely. Jim sits back, reaches out for the glass on his desk, and brings it to his mouth only to lower it without drinking any of it.

Spock takes the glass, the amber liquid sloshing gently, and takes it to the replicator. It is clear that this is not what the captain wants, the glass is still mostly full.

“Bones confirmed the cyanide compound,” Jim says at last. When Spock turns around he sees him still leaning back in the chair, legs spread, arms loosely hanging between them. His head is thrown back and he is looking at the ceiling of the bulkhead. “There is no doubt that his implant was provided by Section 31. Bones went over his medical records, none of his scans show the implants and it should, so they were altered early on. Admiral Paris will look into that as well.” Jim goes silent after that and Spock debates on what to do next and decides to go with a hunch.

“What are her orders moving forward?” Spock asks and Jim sits up, leaning forward, his forearms resting on his thighs.

“We continue with our previous schedule, any special mission requests from Starfleet will go through her first. If we receive anything from any other source we are to report to her,” Jim looks at him and Spock is pleased to see that the shadows of doubt are lifting, that the frailness he’d experienced is slowly peeling away. “There is a task force in charge of investigating this incident as well as others. Apparently we were not the only ones who had received some… questionable request,” Jim says and Spock finally understands why the call had extended for so long. Spock is also aware that if he had been meant to be privy to this information, he wouldn’t have been asked to leave in the first place, and so this too is a moment of intimacy in a way. 

“How long has this task force existed?” Spock asks Jim’s lips quirk to a side.

“I asked the same thing. Officially it was established after Khan.”

“And unofficially?”

Jim lifts his hands. “Unclear. In any case, there isn’t much we can do except to remain vigil.”

“The probability for Section 31 to retreat is very high, now that their plan has been not only thwarted but also found out. They will hear about Lieutenant Su’un,” Spock says gently and Jim takes a deep breath.

“Yeah, they will. Official cause of death is currently natural causes, caused by a pre-existing condition. But Section 31 will read in between the lines of that.”

Spock nods. His conclusions had been the same and of everything that has happened, Spock knows that this is the one thing that weighs the heaviest on his captain. He steps close again.

“Jim,” he says, waits for him to look up, “I grieve with thee,” Spock says softly and Jim lets out a shuddering breath before leaning forward to press the heels of his hands against his eyes. Spock knows that it’s not just the death but everything surrounding it that is making his captain have this reaction. The fact that Su’un had actively betrayed him and everyone on the ship, the fact that until the very end he chose death over Jim and the ship, the fact that Jim hadn’t seen it, hadn’t even suspected it. Blindsided by the betrayal and the grief. 

He waits but it’s only a few moments later that Jim drops his hands. His eyes are dry, there are no tears now either after all, and when he looks up, regret is but a mere shadow in those eyes. There is determination there instead and Spock is again awed by Jim’s ability to turn hardships into something he can build on. Spock knows that moving forward Jim will be more resilient, will be twice as fiercely loyal to his crew, that this is the moment where Jim has vowed to himself that he won’t lose another member. A promise they both know he can not keep, but Jim has always believed in the impossible and in Spocks’ experience has been the harbinger of miracles. 

He reaches out again and brushes his hand against Jim’s cheek. There is no other intent behind his action other than the desire to touch, a desire he is increasingly unable to resist, a desire he has found he doesn’t want to resist at all anymore. It is a new gesture between them, but Jim leans into it easily and closes his eyes and Spock realizes that the gesture might be new, that the form of expression is one they have never used with each other, but the sentiment behind it, the feelings between them, those have been here for a long time. 

And thus it does not feel monumental, this moment between them, it feels like the natural progression of their relationship, like two planets finally falling in sync, like a symphony, a cosmic harmony of sorts, something ancient and preordained coming together at last. Spocks thinks about destiny, thinks about fate, and surely if such thing were to exist, then his place in the universe had always been by Jim's side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I had no idea really what I was going to write for today's prompt and I didn't start working on it until two hours ago. It's interesting, the whole I had spent thinking about today on and off, trying to figure out how to progress the story. You see, at the beginning, I had always thought that "Gravity" would be the moment where they would get together. I had envisioned a sort of intense but brief action scene, followed by a close call that would end in them finally just admitting their own feelings.
> 
> But then I decided to add a plot to this disaster, that I then had to develop and finish, and what I thought was going to be a maybe 3K words long chapter, ended up being 9K words spanning across 4 chapters, and so "Gravity" got swallowed up into the conspiracy plot fallout.
> 
> And so now I am truly adrift with this story. I had an idea for tomorrow's prompt which might not be possible and that well, makes me a bit sad, I was looking forward to it. But the idea really makes no sense with what is happening now so maybe I'll just drop it and move it forward to the very end. But that's tomorrow's problem!
> 
> It is interesting though because I can clearly see how this daily writing challenge has helped me get faster into writing. I know that before, if this hadn't been a challenge, it would have taken weeks for me to move forward from this spot. Instead I could sit down and hammer out 2K words in two hours of something I had previously not even thought about.
> 
> Are those 2K words, good words? Well, you are the judge of that lol.


	27. Scars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PROMPT DAY 27: scars

Jim does not scar anymore.

It is one of the may side effects of Khan’s blood, alongside the strength, the speed, the reflexes, the rapid healing, Jim’s injuries no longer leave any scars behind. Usually, after an injury, there are subcutaneous signs of healing left behind, scars embedded deep in tissue and muscle and bone. Jim doesn’t have those either.

And yet, Spock wonders as he watches the stiff back of his captain, he knows that even though he can’t see any scars, can’t detect any sign of healing using his tricorder, he knows that his captain’s back is burdened and riddled with scars.

They are not the wounds of physical combat, but of hard-learned lessons, of members lost under his command, of the consequences of his choices. Wounds born out of carrying the heavy mantle of command.

Spock stands by his station and watches Jim as he argues and negotiates with the Primeran of Regulus, a new member of the federation. They have a penchant for arguments and will absolutely argue even the finest of lines in a regulation. They have been at this for hours now, calling back and forth to push each other on the finest points. But Spock is mostly focused on his captain, watching his straight back, his broad shoulders pushed back, his unyielding position, and he remembers how just a few days ago he’d held him close as he shared his grief.

This show of force is not just for the sake of the Regulus Primeran. The Captain is making a point. The Romulan attack had shaken the Enterprise, the rumor mill had run rampant as they knew it would, and speculation was high and the one thing the Enterprise needed now was to be reminded that they could trust in their Captain. He had never failed them and he would not start now. They might have been shaken, but they have weathered worse and gone through it better than before. 

Spock watches Jim’s back, as it flexes and shifts under his shirt. He knows what it looks like, has seen Jim undressed before. He is aware of the muscles and their names. From his trapezius, the splenius capitis and splenius cervicis to rhomboid minor and rhomboid major, to his latissimus dorsi. He knows the way they bunch when they contract, they expand when they relax. Has felt the power of those muscles when they fight. He knows the location of the freckles on Jim's back and how the sunlight teases them out on his shoulders. 

And even though there are no scars, Spock knows every injury Jim has sustained. The phaser that burned his shoulder, the spear that pierced his thigh, so close to the artery he could have died. The arrow that grazed his left arm and the projectile gun that grazed his right. The brands around his wrist from when he tried to escape from handcuffs and the same around his ankles from when he hung from shackles. The 22 lashes he took on his back during torture, the same that left him with three broken ribs and a dislocated shoulder and a split lip.

There are other wounds that are harder yet. The sacrifice of his father, the murder of Admiral Pike, the betrayal of Su’un, the thing that happened on Tarsus IV that no one knows about except Dr. McCoy and Spock. The death of every single member he has lost under his command, of every friend who has died in the line of duty. 

Jim is winning his argument, Spoc can tell. He has moved his hands to his hips, the kind of vulnerable position that a predator uses because they know they can’t be defeated. He stands tall, carries the weight of hundreds of lives, of their dreams and aspirations, carries the weight of the Federation, of Starfleet and command, of a name that became a legacy the day he was born.

He carries all of that on his broad shoulder, wide and sturdy, and he stands on the bridge with the certainty that he can and will weather it all, for the sake of those he has chosen to protect. And Spock knows, he is privileged to know, that his captain is not without his flaws, his insecurities, and doubts, that sometimes he can’t carry all that weight on his own. And Spock wants to spend the rest of his life standing behind his captain and be the one person he can lean on when the weight gets too heavy when the burden gets too much. 

He thinks about destiny and fate again, and he thinks about choice and he realizes that when it comes down to it, they are all one and the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't get to work on this until 30 minutes ago. It's midnight. This is the best I can do right now.


	28. Mirror

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PROMPT DAY 28: mirror

They are on York Town. 

It’s mostly for refits that the Enterprise needs as they start the last stretch of their mission, however, York Town is also hosting a four-day symposium which allowed several members of the crew to participate as guest speakers and will serve as a platform to showcase the discoveries and scientific advances that the Federation has done through its flagship. Spock, Chekhov, Uhura, and Scotty have panels for themselves. Scotty alone has a whole 3-hour block just for himself and Spock knows that Jim is incredibly proud of that. They also went over Scotty’s presentation, just to make sure that the more… creative aspects of Scotty’s work remained within Starfleet operational guidelines. They were under enough scrutiny already, there was no need to shine a spotlight on other potential weak spots.

Their six-day stay is also shore leave for the rest of the crew and Spock knows that after this time apart they will come back together stronger, better, and whatever tension had remained after the Romulan attack will be gone after this week.

They spent most of their leave apart, with Spock being a guest speaker at the symposium himself and Jim overseeing a great deal of the refits because ‘Scotty made me pinky promise him I would’. Spock dislikes spending time apart from his captain, wants to go back to that night in the captain’s quarters where he held his face in his palm. He is aware that there remains a gap between them and he is unable to figure out how to bridge it, knows only that he wants to do so desperately. He hopes that the solution to his dilemma will become apparent to him and perhaps some time apart is not such a bad idea after all.

On the last day of the conference, there is a big party, as there usually is. Spock attends mostly because he knows that Starfleet presence at the conference is good for all of them. It turns out to be more enjoyable than these things usually are, especially because halfway through it he spots the captain talking to a group of his crew members. Spock thinks that the shore leave has been good to him too and he is glad for it.

Later in the evening he looks for the captain and finds him out on one of the balconies, leaning over the railing and looking over the city. Jim turns to him with a smile when Spock comes to stand next to him. 

“Captain,” Spock greets and dutiful clinks his glass against Jim’s when Jim tilts his whiskey towards him. “I didn’t know you were planning on attending.”

“I wasn’t,” Jim confesses. “But Keenser kicked me out of Engineering and I wasn’t in the mood for reports tonight,” Jim says with a smile.

“I trust that you did not spend all of shore leave working?” Spock asks with a frown and Jim laughs.

“Tinkering around in Engineering is not work, Spock,” Jim says, “I’m sad I missed Scotty’s lecture though. Did you go?”

“I did. It was quite a… remarkable presentation,” Spock says carefully, trying to describe in the best way possible the chaotic energy that Montgomery Scott exudes when given a stage. He turns to look at Jim then. “Did you know he has a fanclub?” he asks and Jim bursts out laughing. It’s genuinely surprised out of him, enough that liquid in his glass sloshes and spills over his fingers.

“You know, I didn’t but I am not at all surprised,” Jim says and grins and Spock wants to press his mouth against it. 

“It was a fascinating experience,” Spock continues. “I did not know that such groups formed in academic endeavors.”

“Really? I’m surprised considering you had one too back at the academy,” Jim says smiling.

“Excuse me, captain, I do not understand, what is it that I had? Spock asks, confused.

“A fanclub,” Jim continues, mirth evident in the crinkling of his eyes.

“I did not,” Spock answers and he feels somehow _scandalized_ by this news.

“You so did, you should ask Uhura someday,” Jim continues and Spock is having too many emotions to process them properly.

“She was aware of this?” he asks and sounds betrayed even to his own ears.

Jim finishes his drink and places the empty glass on the table behind him. “She was part of it for a while,” he adds and Spock begins to reorder everything he thought he knew about his time at the Academy. Clearly, he was not as observant as he had always prided himself to be.

“You okay there, Spock?” Jim asks and Spock realizes the silence has gone on for a bit too long.

“Quite, Captain, I just find myself somewhat confused by this knowledge. It was my understanding that “fans” were reserved for quite extraordinary people,” Spock says and Jim smiles and it does something to his eyes, turns them into slits of blue. He is suddenly aware of how close they are to each other, close enough that he can feel the heat from Jim’s body, close enough that he can see the different hues in Jim’s eyes.

“Oh, Mr. Spock, I think you are selling yourself short there,” Jim says softly, his lips curving into a smile, one that seems almost shy, “you are smart, loyal to a fault and believe in serving a purpose higher than yourself. I would think those qualities would qualify you as quite extraordinary,” Jim says and Spock notices that Jim is looking at his mouth. He inclines his head, watches Jim follow the movement, thinks that it would be so easy to just lean forward and kiss him.

“And yet it is I who think so of you, Jim,” Spock answers and Jim wets his lips. He reaches out, compelled to touch him, holds his chin and rubs a thumb over his lips to chase the moisture left behind. “I have been wondering lately about fate and destiny, about the laws of the universe and coincidences. And even though there is much I do not know, I do believe we were always meant to meet. If there is a constant in the Universe then it is that my place is next to you. If I am loyal it is because you have taught what that means. If I serve a higher purpose then it is because you have made me believe that I can. Whatever man I am now, I am because of you,” Spock says and he has completely forgotten that they are not alone, that they are on a balcony, hundreds of people just mere meters away, but for him, right now, there is no one else but him and Jim and the Universe.

“Whatever greatness I might have, is because you have found a way to bring it out of me,” Spock continues and then finds himself with an armful of Jim, with Jim’s mouth on his and the kiss feels like neither a beginning nor an end, just another step in the long road they have been walking together, side by side, and Spock thinks this is what home feels like.


	29. Crown

Vulcans do not believe in souls, but they believed in _katra_ , the living spirit, the essence of the Vulcan mind that could exist within and without of the body. There were rituals and myths about it, ancient mythologies that thrummed within Vulcans’ blood hailing back from a time where they believed in gods and heaven and hell.

Spock feels this now, this old long-forgotten calling of a soul, the yearning as they stumble into Spock’s quarters, hands running over each other not desperate but eager. He is filled with unbearable greed, a thirst that seems only to increase the more he touches Jim’s body, the more his lips slide against Jim’s. When his hands finally touch Jim’s bare skin it feels almost like he is drowning, an oasis in the middle of a desert, and Spock allows himself to be greedy. 

They tangle in the sheets of his regulation bed, a bunk far too small for two grown men, and yet everything about this moment will forever remain as perfection in Spock’s memories. The way they shed their clothes, messily and haphazardly, without hurry in between touches and kisses and caresses, the way Jim looks spread out underneath him, all pale skin against the white sheets flushed rosy as arousal spreads through his body, eyes blue like the sky, like the ocean and just as endless.

Spock’s experience in these things is limited, mostly academic, but he seems to know what to do regardless, how to touch Jim to make him writhe and throw back his head in pleasure, where to press his lips to suck bruises that fade just as easy as they came, how to slide against each other so pleasure ratchets up for both of them. And Spock thinks that he shouldn’t have been surprised, that it had always been easy with Jim as long as Spock allowed himself to let go, that his captain had never led him astray and that he would not do so now either. 

And so he follows when Jim shifts, lays on his back and watches as Jim straddles him and rises above him and Spock understands why his ancestors revered gods once, why they had built temples and monuments in their honor because he feels it now as he looks up at Jim. Jim is a long column of glistening skin, of taut muscle flexing and contracting every time he cants his hips, his chest rising with every panting breath, his eyes mere slits of blue, and the dim light right above him reflects against his golden hair, like a halo, like a crown of light. 

He remembers then, that day months ago in the castle, where he’d seen Jim dressed like a King standing by a window, lit only by the moon and candles, and how he’d thought that Jim had looked like he belonged there amongst the ancient stone, how he had seemed ethereal and unreachable back then and how Spock had foolishly kept the leather lace that had held Jim’s bodice together because at the time it was the only thing he felt he could have.

Spock reaches out, trails his hands over Jim’s skin, takes everything he couldn’t take before, slides down to curl a hand around them both and watches pleased how Jim throws his head back, how his movements grow faster and urgent and Spock thinks that yes, this is how things should be.

Jim falls forward, holding himself up with his left as his right-hand joins Spock’s, their fingers tangling, messily, slippery, spreading slickly over their heated flesh, and Spock knows this won't last much longer.

He wants to reach out and press his fingers against Jim’s face, doesn’t realize he is doing so until Jim keens and chants “please, please-” sounding needy and desperate, and Spock thinks that he should warn Jim, the part of his mind that is not entirely consumed by pleasure knows that he needs to tell Jim what this would mean, but Jim pushes his face into Spock’s hand firmly, opens his eyes and says: “I know, Spock, I know,-” and then everything falls away as Jim’s mind opens up to him, as Spock dives into Jim, an ocean of ecstasy that dissolves into synesthesia and nothing has ever felt as right as this one single union of souls, of _katra_.

Spock’s last thought as he loses his mind to pleasure, as he loses his senses and the world goes dark around him, is that this is the very essence of the universe, life forces colliding, collapsing, being reshaped and reborn into something else entirely, and Spock embraces it, holds onto Jim, in his body and mind and soul, and lets himself fall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And just in the last inning, this fic earned its Explicit rating. (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*✲ﾟ*｡⋆


	30. Submerged

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PROMPT DAY 30: under water

Spock is dreaming.

He is at the beach again, the ocean vast and beautiful in front of him. Endless. Ominous. The horizon a line that merges the water with the sky into a single entity. He looks down at his feet. He is wearing his uniform boots. Polished and tidy like everything else he wears. The water laps at the tips before it retreats back, leaving behind only white froth that vanishes as well.

He once again has the sensation that he has been here before, and yet he knows, he has not. When he looks up he can see the sun and the clear blue sky. In the distance, he can hear birds but there are none to be seen. 

The beach is deserted.

The sound of the ocean, of waves crashing forward and retreating just to do it all over again, is steady and rhythmical, always the same, like a metronome, like the ticking of a clock. Like breathing. He feels a prickling in the back of his neck, feels his skin rise into goosebumps, and this too feels familiar. He remembers the last dream, remembers not feeling alone and yet.

He turns around-

-and comes face to face with the ocean again. When he turns his head one more time, he has the same view of the ocean. It’s dream logic, he knows, but Vulcans are able to control his dreams usually, but this seems different. The sound of the ocean is becoming louder. He looks at his feet, the water is lapping at his shins now. When he looks around he notices that he is now standing further into the water. He cocks his head to a side. He does not feel threatened, he does not feel much other than curiosity and that strange awareness in the back of his head, familiar and yet not, comforting and comfortable and yet unusual. 

He blinks and now the water is up to his hips. There are still waves and he should be swaying with the movement of the water but he does not. 

Dream logic.

He thinks about waking himself up and yet, he remains curious, intrigued and he wonders whether he is directing the dream after all in a way, his subconscious telling him where he has to go, no matter how counter-intuitive it might be. Logic dictates to turn around, explore the beach, stand on land.

But dream logic is different.

He thinks about this, remembers that the last time he had this dream he had turned around and woken up. The only remaining option then was going forward. He took one step and then the ground beneath him vanished, plunging him abruptly into the water, surrounding him in darkness.

There is a flicker, just for a second, of the briefest of panic, an old survival instinct that tells him to kick up, to break water. It leaves as quickly as it came. It does not feel like drowning, it feels instead more like zero gravity, weightless, effortless, a bizarre sense of acceptance overcomes him entirely then. He lets go, lets himself go lax, allows the water to take him and he floats easily upwards, the surface above him is like a mirror, his reflection blurry. As he gets closer to it, the sound of the water comes back, louder with each moment, increasing with each heartbeat. He reaches out with his hand, presses his palm flat against the surface, watches the surface ripple, he is close now, almost face to face, and when the water smoothes down again, it’s not his face that looks back at him, it’s Jims.

Their palms touch.

He wakes up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* s y m b o l i s m *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧


	31. Tattoo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PROMPT DAY 31: bonus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys I can't believe it but this is the last one! As a fun note, this is what I had originally wanted to write for "Day 27: scars/tattoo" prompt. I had planned for Spock and Jim to get their act together on day 26 but WELL. Things clearly went completely different. Still, I really liked this because I can't get over the fact that Spock has [canonically](https://64.media.tumblr.com/87423e561ff2f07b5bd9c6ab7cfbb5be/c51206ca77e4005a-e6/s640x960/04f24ab54206603a195aef821d18f3d7b865114d.jpg) a tattoo what the frick. THE LINK WORKS NOW OOPS
> 
> I want to thank everyone who left kudos, who bookmarked, who commented. You have no idea what it means to me when you guys do that. 
> 
> Special thanks to eveningstar10 who showed up on chapter 12 and then proceeded to cheer me on every day. I was looking forward to your comments just as much as I hope you were looking forward to an update!
> 
> Thanks to all of you who commented, especially the incoherent screams on chapter 28 xD They made my day, seriously, you all did. In the end, that's what writers always want, to see the reader's reactions. Please know that incoherent screaming is a 100% valid comment and it warms my heart every time.
> 
> Anyway, read the ending notes to see my super long and indulgent self-reflection on this challenge.

Spock opens his eyes. 

He is in his quarters, in his bed, he has slept for 6 hours and 13 minutes, the lights are on dim and Jim is lying next to him, propped on his elbows, his fingers carefully trailing over his _kahs-wam_ mark on the inside of his right biceps. Spock moves his head to have him in full view and Jim smiles softly and continues looking at his arm.

“You know, I always wondered if this really was a tattoo or if I had just imagined it,” Jim murmurs, his voice a deep rumble, soft and relaxed and Spock wonders how he has spent so long without knowing what Jim sounds like in the morning. Spock turns his arm further around so Jim can observe the mark properly.

“Is this ink?” Jim asks, his fingers now less shy, gliding over the bumps of the scarred tissue hidden by the ink. 

“Yes,” Spock says, watching Jim’s hands on his skin, is mesmerized by the trail of sensation he leaves behind. “Even now the form of introducing the ink under the skin remains traditional.”

Jim turns to look at him, raising his brows in wry amusement. “Is this your way of saying that it hurts?”

“Controlling the pain is part of the ritual,” Spock answers neutrally but he remembers vividly the day he received the mark. The hours of pain he’d endured as the ink had been stippled into his flesh with a fine wooden needle, the persistent tapping of the elderly monk who had rhythmically, systematically drawn the pattern of his family’s crest so it would remain there until he died. It had hurt fiendishly and by the end of it, it hadn’t been control that had overcome the pain, but rather fatigue so profound he had gone numb entirely. He doesn’t think that that’s how it is supposed to go but then again he has never been one to be conventional.

He watches as Jim bends down and places a gentle, chaste kiss on his mark and Spock's fingers curl involuntarily. Jim lifts his head and smiles at him.

“There, all better now,” Jim says and Spock is suddenly, absurdly, ridiculously overwhelmed by him. This man comprised of endless contradictions, of hard edges and soft corners, of incredible passion tempered by steely control, of confidence strengthened by his own insecurities, of braveness born entirely out of fear. He defies logic, Spock does not understand him, just like with the Universe, he is limited by the confines of his senses, and yet he _knows_ him. Knows Jim’s heart which he wears on his sleeve and his soul which resides in the stars and his mind which resides within Spock’s own.

He curls an arm around Jim, pulls him close, moves so he’s above looking down at Jim, their legs tangle in the sheets, and Jim smiles at him, soft and dreamy and easy. Spock’s hand finds Jim’s and he remembers his dream, mirror images meeting as one, and the revelation comes to him then just as soft and easy, and as he lowers his head to press his mouth to Jim’s he finally understands the ancient ritual words he learned so long ago:

  


_Parted from me and never parted._

  


_Never and always touching and touched._

  


_I await you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first time I have ever done one of these challenges. I had tried to before but never even got past the first day. As I said at the very beginning, I have been wanting to improve on the more technical aspects of my writing, and this challenge was just really a super long exercise in that regard. 
> 
> I want to have better, more consistent writing habits, and I gave myself a few rules.
> 
> 1\. write between 200-500.  
> I lowballed the word count intentionally since I wanted to avoid fatigue and burned out. In previous occasions, I would overshoot and end up burned out or stressed because I'd set a word count that was too hight for me to manage. Considering that this fic is almost 40K words long, clearly I underestimated myself. I'm glad to see that I can average 1K+ words a day consistently. 
> 
> 2\. no editing.  
> I fall into an endless self-editing loop that makes me get stuck in the same paragraph for months until I would finally quit and leave my stories unfinished. The fact that I had to publish something every day before midnight (and believe me, there were plenty of days where I played fast and loose with what "midnight" meant), meant that I really didn't have time to spare. I had to focus on writing, on filling the prompt, and then advancing the story. You can not edit text you haven't written. Clearly, when I don't waste time re-writing the same sentence 25 times, I am able to churn out 1K words at day. Who'd have thunk.
> 
> 3\. approach each prompt without planning ahead.  
> Even though I wrote the challenge I forgot about the prompts lol. And I really didn't focus on the prompt until they day off. The idea behind this was to shorten the time of going from "prompt-idea-writing". I can spend _years_ waiting on the "perfect ideal conditions" to get "inspired" and "in the zone" and all that BS. The truth is that having one great writing day every 3 years is useless. I can't wait 3 years to have an idea, I need to be able to find that spark at will. I thought that this would be the hardest part of the challenge and to my surprise, it was not. With very few exceptions (Day 3: Seasons" comes to mind) I almost always knew what I wanted to write for the prompt. I would come up with it fairly quickly and the chapter would really write itself. Even though I haven't checked but I think there will be a correlation between word count and inspiration, meaning, the less words the less I knew what I wanted to say.
> 
> All of this was already great but to be honest, the biggest take-away for me was proving this thing that everyone says: to get over writers block, you have to write. 
> 
> I did not have a plot for this, originally I had thought about writing 31 drabble-like stories, all independent, snapshot-like stories told from Spock's perspective. The only thing I knew was that I wanted these pieces to be introspective, told from Spock's POV about himself and his relationship with Jim. I never intended for these prompts to serve as chapters of one single, long story and yet, here we are. The plot really just happened out of nowhere, came to me in the middle of filling the prompt, and idk exactly when it all just became one single thread leading towards a conclusion.
> 
> At the end of this challenge what I'm left with is a 40K word draft, one that I know could result in a solid story with proper editing and that was the whole point. You can not edit text you haven't written. This text can be edited, can be spellchecked, can be improved. I don't have plans on doing that any time soon, I'm off to a new challenge for August, but I am immensely proud of this first story, wonky plot, riddled with spelling errors and unclear theme included. 
> 
> Thank you all for reading this essay (wow sorry...) and for coming along for the ride! I hope you all enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it ♥

**Author's Note:**

> I created the challenge which is posted here. If you want to use it go nuts! It's meant to be for anybody who creates art, not just writers. I wanted to push myself into creating better, more consistent writing habits.
> 
> These are not stand alone stories, each prompt functions like a chapter. The title of each chapter is what I picked for the prompt from the challenge, please be warned that I play fast and loose with the interpretation of them in the later chapters as the plot picks up.


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